


Letting Go

by Ranranbolly



Series: Brothers in Blood [2]
Category: Lost Boys (1987), Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Lust, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Multi, Resurrection, Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 50,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranranbolly/pseuds/Ranranbolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a year after 'In Your Veins', Michael has partially adjusted to his new life with Marko and David. But he still can't let go of Star, even when he needs to. As for Marko and David, they finally figure out a way to bring Dwayne and Paul back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remembering

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like the last chapter of 'In Your Veins' was a perfect way to end the story...and then I had this awesome idea for a second part. Hope you enjoy.

In the swirling lights on the carousel, Star hopped from horse to giraffe to antelope. She was restless tonight. It had been a year since their battle, and Michael's disappearance. Since then, she'd been staying with the Emersons and waiting for him to come home. During the day, she worked at a small clothing shop, but at night...she roamed the boardwalk until her legs hurt so much, she thought surely that night would be the one her muscles gave out on her for good.

The first month, she hadn't been as desperate. The first month, she hadn't seen him at all. But...the second month...

Star shivered, rubbing at the goose pimples on her arms and laying down on the metal bench in the carousel. Grinning painted animals and children bobbed about her, and the landscape outside constantly shifted in a steady circle. Star closed her eyes, and reminisced. She remembered the moments she'd shared with Michael in the cave, after they'd made love.

* * *

"Michael, are you going to be okay?" Star leaned over and kissed her new-found lover's shoulder, smiling when he opened his eyes again and met her own gaze. Trapped between night and day, they shared a hunger together...yet she couldn't bring herself to tell him more than she already had. It was just something he had to find out on his own.

"I just...want some answers," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. She let her eyes drift shut as she felt the warmth of skin against skin beneath the thin blanket around them. It was nice to be so close to him, to remember what human heat felt like. David was so cold...

"I promise I'm going to tell you everything I can, Michael. I promise..." Star whispered, lifting her leg to lay it over his torso. She was as close as one person could get to another; still she wanted more. Even before the blood, before David and the others...sex had never been this wonderful. Love really did make a difference. She knew she loved him, even if they'd only known each other a few days...hardly even spoke much, really. Some things...you just knew.

"Star, that's not enough for me," Michael reached over to pull some of her hair to his mouth and breathe in the scent after he spoke. The act was touching, and intimate. He wasn't upset with her...just tired. A little scared. Star couldn't imagine what must have happened to drive him back to the cave in such a panic. For a moment...making love had calmed him. Made him forget...hell, it made her forget too.

"Can't we just be together now?" Star tucked her head under Michael's chin and pressed her face to his collarbone. He was so strong, so big...bigger than he'd looked with his clothes on. In his embrace, David didn't matter anymore, because Michael was with her to keep her safe. The intimacy of sex was a high of it's own, and for a few short moments, she let herself live in her fantasy world.

They were quiet for awhile, even as Star shifted to settle on top of Michael, and he rested on the mattress with his hands tenderly grasping her hips. She smiled down at him, and just...looked.

"Michael..." Star whispered, tasting the word on her mouth and savoring it. David really liked his name...that was something they'd had in common. He also liked other...things about Michael...they had that in common too.

The first night she'd seen Michael and she'd climbed onto the back of David's Triumph, letting her eyes linger guiltily on Michael...she felt David's hunger.

As they drove away, hooting and hollering, Star had wanted to stay behind and get to know him a bit more, maybe even tell him there was no hope for them as a couple. Even if she hadn't met him, hadn't spoken to him...she'd already known she wanted him.

"Michael..." She whispered again, biting her lip when he shifted underneath her, and they began to make love again, softly and slowly. She'd almost forgotten what that sort of act could feel like...

"Star," he reached up to caress her face and smile. Behind those eyes, his worry and fear hid away, and all she saw in them at that moment was...happiness. If eternity could simply be this, being a vampire would be bliss. But she knew it would have to end sooner or later, and she'd be left cold beside him, once they both made their first kills.

* * *

"Star," the word echoed in the air, shaking her from her memory. Star sat up on the bench and looked about. She didn't know who had said her name...but it sounded like it could be David...or...

"Michael?" Star called out, darting up and glancing about. The carousel had continued to spin, and lights danced around her. Ahead, she saw a trio of boys climbing from the ride...but she could only see their backs. Still...she'd know them anywhere...

"Michael? David? Marko?" Star called out, rushing ahead to try and catch up with them. But why would Marko and David be with him? They were dead. They were dead!

"MICHAEL!" Star shouted, slipping from the ride and nearly tangling her skirt around the leg of a bobbing unicorn. Glaring at it, she yanked her skirt free and watched the somehow vicious-looking horned horse dance away. Her eyes slid back towards the crowd around her, but she didn't see any of them. They were gone. Had they ever really been there?

Blinking back tears, Star wiped at her eyes. The first time she had very nearly seen a vision of Michael on the boardwalk had been a month after he went missing. But she hadn't been able to catch him then, either. Each time she could swear she saw him...on the beach, on the carousel, nearby in a line headed towards the massive Ferris wheel, peeking around an earring stall...he was gone as soon as she realized it.

Star ran a hand through her hair and pushed her way past a group of giggling girls with far too many piercings to be considered healthy, and made herself drag her feet home. She couldn't handle this anymore, the waiting and the searching. Michael was dead, had probably been dead since that night...maybe he went off somewhere private and offed himself after what he'd been through, or maybe he'd been dragged out of the house by a serial killer with poor timing...but she couldn't fight it anymore.

* * *

David took a pull from his laced cigarette and passed it to Marko, who looked for all the world that he was in on the most amusing private joke. They both watched Michael stand a few feet away, staring after the departing image of Star as she shoved through the crowd.

"You got too close tonight, Michael, that's why we had to pull you back," David remarked as Marko handed his cigarette back to him. Michael didn't reply. He was always quiet on the nights they let him see Star. If David had any kind of conscience, he'd probably feel bad about teasing the boy like this. But they all knew what would probably happen if Michael got to actually talk to her.

He'd brood even more, and fight even harder to wake himself up during the day so he could drag himself outside to burn to a crisp in the sun. He was entirely too sentimental about a life he'd been bored to death of when he was actually living it.

"Hey, don't worry about it, bud," Marko 'consoled' Michael, patting his back with one hand. "As soon as we find the bodies, David promised you'd get her back. He's a dick, but he never lies," Marko continued, reaching for David's cigarette only to get a slightly irritated glare in return.

"I'm not a dick," David hissed and threw his cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the dirt so there was no salvaging it.

Marko smirked and rolled his eyes, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Why do you want to find their bodies, anyway? They're dead." Michael turned back to David and Marko, nudging past them to head towards their bikes. In the past year, he'd managed to get a much nicer one than his old model that sat gathering dust in the hotel, nestled amid other piles of forgotten scraps and junk from years gone by. But he liked his old one more...it was a sentimental thing. Hell, if it had just been a little slower or a little more worn out, he might still be human. Because then, he never would have been able to keep up in that stupid game of chicken with David.

"Mikey, didn't I tell you already? Fuck, man, like...a hundred times?" Marko called behind him, trotting to keep up. David strolled with a much slower pace. He knew they weren't about to power off without him, so he'd take his sweet time.

"It's not going to work," Michael replied, dodging around a drunken couple whispering meaningless shit back and forth. His nose wrinkled when he saw them. Somehow, the more he saw people in love nowadays...the angrier and hungrier it seemed to make him. Especially on the nights he was allowed to see Star. Marko was right, though. He had gotten too close...he'd been on the verge of approaching to pull her into his arms when he felt David's angry stare and sharp claws on his neck. Fuck, the guy never gave him any space. He knew he was 'in control', and he knew Michael couldn't leave him...so why was he always so god damned possessive?

"Couldn't hurt to try, Michael," David reached his Triumph and lazily threw a leg over the seat.

" _Yeah, you're only going to kill a dozen or so people in the process, asshole,_ " Michael wanted to snap back. But he'd been forced to dial back his retorts as of late. It only gave David an excuse to do...shit. He shivered at the thought, kicking his engine into life and frowning as he thought about it. How was it possible to hate something and still enjoy it so much? Sometimes he wondered if he was more bat-shit crazy than his 'brothers'.


	2. Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael yearns for Star. She does the same. Thorne finds something special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens.

" _Say it_ ," poisonous and sweet words dripped in Michael's ears, forcing him to draw his head to the side and squeeze his eyes shut. He just wanted to block them out.

"Say it," David repeated, grabbing Michael's face and drawing it back so that he could give his lips a hard, painful kiss. His claws digging sharply into the skin. The boy gasped for air, opening his eyes again to gaze up at his enemy and his...god, how Michael hated to think the word...but...his lover.

Writhing on the bed together, they had found a pace that suited them both. A little too fast for Michael, and a little too slow for David, but somewhere in the middle. Most nights, Michael didn't even get a choice in the matter. It would be fast and rough, painful and glorious. The kind of sex that verged on torture, with only one of the pair reaping any true enjoyment out of the experience. Then again, David always thought of his own pleasure first. In comparison to how most nights went, this practically verged on gentle by David's standards.

"Are you going to say it?" David growled into Michael's ear, grinding into him and forcing Michael to painfully dig his heels into David's back.

"What do you want me to say?" Michael asked weakly, too tired to play the game.

"What the fuck do you _think_ I want you to say?!" David demanded, picking up his pace and shifting his hands behind Michael's back so he could dig his claws deep into his shoulder blades. There was so much blood on the bed. From victims, sometimes. But mostly from sex. They'd have to replace the sheets this week, David mused. Otherwise Thorne would just tear them up eventually if he didn't get a chance hunt down a proper meal.

"Hey, Davey, are you going to finish this pizza?" Marko called out from across the room, kicking his heels up on a beech-wood stump as he leaned back in his seat and picked at David's leftovers.

"God damn it, Marko! I told you to keep quiet if you were going to stick around when we fucked!" David snapped, glaring back at the other member of his gang. It rather ruined any semblance of romance he was trying to maintain with Michael.

"Touchy!" Marko rolled his eyes, taking that as a no and grabbing the last slice of pizza from David's plate. Food wasn't really a necessary indulgence for a vampire, but it tasted pretty good in-between feedings. And it was definitely something to do when he wasn't allowed to actually participate in any sex-related activities. David had made it quite clear on several occasions that he wasn't willing to share. And as for Michael...when he wasn't actively being banged routinely on their well-used bed, he didn't take too well to Marko's advances either. Not that he tried too often. He preferred women when the opportunity arose.

By the time both David and Michael had finally finished, Marko had also finished...off the last slice of pizza. Not nearly as satisfying as what they'd been doing, but good for passing the time.

"Davey, you should nibble his ear more often, he likes that," Marko suggested jokingly as he stood up to stretch. Morning would be coming on soon, and he was ready to call it a night. As entertaining as the live pornographic soap opera was, it was much more enjoyable to just hang out and chat. Maybe kill one or two people in the process, too. Things had gotten so dull around the caves without Paul and Dwayne to liven things up.

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it," David grumbled, pulling Michael in close so he could get a proper cuddle. It was much easier these days to get him to reciprocate. Maybe Michael was getting to enjoy it on another level, David wondered, as he inhaled the scent of Michael's hair. If they never found Dwayne and Paul's bodies, or ashes, or whatever they were now...David rather enjoyed the idea of watching Michael become less enchanted with Star over the years. Surely if he didn't have to keep his promise of letting Michael have her, the process of watching his former lover age and lose her beauty would be enough to make him more actively seek David's company. As fun as the battle of dominance and submission could be, sometimes he honestly just wanted Michael to reciprocate when he was in the mood for a good fuck.

" _Just say you want this, Michael. Tell me you want me..._ " David whispered into his lover's ear, relaxing into the mattress and closing his eyes. They would rest together, until the heat of the approaching sun became too much to bear. Because Michael was still so stubborn, still so desperate to see the morning light again, that David was willing to make one compromise for him. He wanted to see him smile.

"I want..." Michael began, letting the last word fade on his lips. He wanted Star...that was the truth of the matter. And they both knew it...

* * *

"Hey, Star, mom wants to know if you're coming down for dinner?" Sam knocked on Star's bedroom door. It was Michael's room, but...Star's too. Nobody in the family really voiced whether or not they still thought he was coming back. But it was hard for any of them to imagine he would. He was gone...and the only person who couldn't believe it was Star.

"I don't think so, Sam. Just put my plate in the fridge," Star called back, sitting down on hers...and Michael's bed. Normally by now she would have gone down for dinner, and mentally prepared herself for another nightly search on the boardwalk. But all she really wanted to do was sleep. In her dreams, she still saw Michael, but she was able to touch him. In her dreams...he didn't disappear.

"We're all really worried about you, Star," Sam called through the door. He stood tense, unsure whether he should test the knob and talk to her face-to-face. Nobody really wanted to bring the subject of Michael up. It was painful for all of them. And Star...she was just another reminder. The choice was made for him though, when he realized he'd been standing quietly outside the door for two whole minutes.

"Go downstairs, Sam. I want to be alone," Star whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. She didn't move until she heard the sound of his footsteps fading on the wooden steps below...and when she was finally certain she was alone, star reached under her pillow to pull out a bottle of Valium. The same bottle that had been lying on Michael's bedside table, opened, the night he disappeared.

Star gazed at the little plastic talisman in her hand. As of late, she couldn't sleep without it. And since sleep was the only thing that seemed to bring her any peace now, she'd grown to depend on the little medical miracles in pill form. The pill itself didn't put her to sleep, but it took the edge off of her worries. There seemed to be so many nowadays.

She worried that Michael would never come back. She worried that maybe he would, and he wouldn't be the same anymore. Sometimes she even worried that she'd died the night he disappeared, and was merely living through the final dream before death. Whatever the truth of the matter was, she felt sure she was going absolutely insane.

By the time Star had finally settled into bed, the rest of the household had long turned in. Though she knew she would probably be exhausted the next morning when she dragged herself into work, Star couldn't shake the feeling that Michael was out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. As she drifted off to sleep, his name was the final word on her lips. It always was.

* * *

When Michael and David were caught in the throes of bliss, and Star was finally drifting to sleep, a white dog pawed at a mound of soil half a mile away from the Emersons property. Anyone who might have seen him would have thought he'd just discovered a treasure trove of juicy bones. They wouldn't have been too far off the mark.


	3. Digging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys start digging, and Star starts to dream.

Marko runs through the tall grass, hot at the heels of a pale white German shepherd. The dog happily yips into the night air, occasionally snapping his teeth at a bug flitting by, or a particularly tall weed smacking into his face. It had taken one month for them to start searching the property. Three more months to realize Thorne would probably do a better job. And finally...8 more months for him to find what the Lost Boys were searching for. The remains of their fallen companions.

David sailed overhead, keeping his eyes on the lookout for anyone who might approach them and disturb their games tonight. Even he couldn't hide his excitement over reuniting with Dwayne and Paul, who'd done a much better job at keeping Marko occupied, and were a hell of a lot more fun than just a trio.

Michael hung behind, stepping slowly through the field with no particular desire to get to their destination. He had spent the last year living a nightmare, and something told him it was only about to get worse.

“Come on, Michael!” Marko shouted behind him, forcing Michael to pick up his pace a little.

None of them, afterwards, would really understand how they'd missed this spot after they'd combed the Emmerson's backyard and surrounding property so many dozens upon dozens of times. But there was a feeling in the air as they approached the 'grave site' that struck each of them immediately. It was as if all the noises of the summer evening faded away all at once. There was not one cricket chirping, not one rodent crawling through the grass and frantically scraping at the ground. Even the wind became disturbingly absent.

David lowered himself to the ground, not too far from Thorne, who had begun to scratch at a large patch of darkened earth. It was as if someone had kept the area religiously mowed, tearing up any remaining grass from the soil to keep it from coming back.

“We don't rot,” Marko remarked, kneeling down to aid the dog in his digging.

“What?” Michael asked, slowly drawing towards them.

“Bugs don't go after our body parts, neither does mold, or much of anything...” Marko explained, which really didn't help to clear matters up. He sounded nuts.

 “It's why the grass isn't growing here, Michael.” David supplied, throwing an arm around him and grinning. “Cheer up, Mikey. We're about to have a family reunion!”

A peal of thunder echoed in the night air, seeming to drive the point home.

“A bit overkill, but I'll bite,” Marko joked, continuing to dig through the loose dirt. By now his claws were fully-grown, and he was morphing into his vampiric shape to give himself the extra burst of energy he'd need to get the job done. Clearly, the old man who'd buried them had made damn good sure neither Paul nor Dwayne's remains would be found by anyone. Unfortunately for him, he'd neglected to mark the site with a cross or even sprinkle holy water over it to ward away the remaining Lost Boys. His unfortunate grandson included.

“How much you wanna bet it's gonna be a shit load deeper than six feet?” Michael snorted, crossing his arms and watching David join Marko and Thorne to help speed up the job. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Nothing laced. There wasn't even a tiny bit of marijuana in it. He hated that shit. Probably because Marko and David seemed to like it so damn much. Any way to set himself apart from them, or privately rebel from the 'family' he'd become a part of.

David lifted his arm from around Michael's shoulders and gave him a slightly evil grin. Who the fuck was he kidding? All of his grins were evil.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Michael asked wearily, taking a long pull of his cigarette and letting the smoke drift from his mouth slowly.

“No reason. No reason at all,” David shrugged as he spoke, unconvincingly. He was up to something...always up to something.

“Would you fuckers get down here and give me a hand?” Marko grunted in a slightly deeper voice, warped by his morphed state. As hyper and cheerful as he always tried to be, he was sure as hell not going to be the only one getting his hands dirty tonight.

“They're _your_ 'brothers', not mine,” Michael replied, taking another pull of his cigarette and looking up at the night sky.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” David asked, placing a hand on Michael's chest and pretending to straighten his shirt for him.

“I said they're-” Michael was cut off by a firm glare from David, and he very angrily forced himself to drop his cigarette and grind it in the grass below.

“Asshole...” He murmured under his breath as he stripped away his jacket to toss it aside. Michael wasn't a big fan of going out on the hunts to grab himself fresh clothes, so he tried his best to keep what he had as clean as possible. Kneeling down, he joined Marko in clawing at the dirt.

As for David...Michael wasn't surprised to note the mother fucker lighting up his own 'cigarette' so he could enjoy the show.

 _'Seriously?!'_ Michael wanted to snap, but managed to bite his tongue. For his little act of half-defiance earlier, he'd already earned himself a late evening of deep scratches in his back and a sore ass while he slept. He wasn't about to compound it and end up having to regrow another limb. In the past year, he'd luckily only experienced an unfortunate accident like that one time. It had been enough.

“Hey, look, I found a finger!” Marko crowed, sifting a handful of thick black dirt in his hand and picking out a long white object. He then frowned and tossed it behind him.

“...False alarm...just a tail bone...” He grumped, continuing to dig.

“...Tail bone?” Michael raised an eyebrow, pausing.

“Your nutjob gramps does taxidermy, right?” David asked through a mouthful of smoke, looking for all the world like an albino dragon-man as he spoke.

“Oh...yeah...” Michael shrugged. Of all people, David should damn well know what his grandfather did for a living. He'd been up close and personal with one of the many projects in the house. Michael mentally sighed, wishing his grandfather had considered rigging up false wooden horns instead of real ones.

David cast Michael a dark glare, and he shivered. Fuck, sometimes it felt like he could read his god damned mind.

“I can,” David took another pull of his cigarette after he spoke, giving Michael a toothy grin. Marko burst out laughing.

“What?!” Michael yelped.

“Fuck, I was wondering when you'd tell him!” Marko continued digging, picking up the pace as he found his rhythm.

For Michael's part, he felt bile rise in his throat as he recalled all of the conflicting thoughts he must have had about David throughout their entire 'relationship', and the irony that David hadn't been even more thorough in his little nightly punishments escaped him. He was too busy freaking out about the few times he'd actually thought he enjoyed the sex. No wonder the fucker was so smug all the time.

* * *

 

It had begun to pour outside, and rivulets of water streamed over Star's bedroom window, while she sat beside it and stared out at the night sky. She hadn't gone to the boardwalk tonight. Laddie had been begging for weeks to pay them a visit, and she'd finally acquiesced. His parents, of course, were exceedingly fond of the saintly girl in the spangled skirt who found their little boy in an alley and returned him home unscathed.

That was what they'd told her a thousand times over the phone. To them, Star was an angel sent from on high. In reality, she felt more like a devil who'd straddled the line between heaven and hell, keeping Laddie in her arms so he wouldn't fall in-between the cracks. The little boy still loved her as if she was his mother, and sometimes even a little bit more than his real parents. He hadn't gone through torture with them, nor had they been forced to endure a hunger no living person should have. But Star knew what it felt like, and so Star understood him.

He was still innocent in many ways. But the hunger...even if it was gone...sometimes memories of it came to bother him in the night. They bothered Star too. It was the same reason she'd started calling him, checking up on Laddie to make sure he was okay. She'd promised herself when she'd sent him back to his real home that she'd sever their connection to keep him safe, should David (or anything like David) come back seeking some sort of sick vengeance on her and the Emmersons. Star told herself she called Laddie to keep him sane, to remind him that it was all in the past. But the truth of the matter was, she called him for more selfish reasons. Sometimes she was afraid her nightmares would carry her away, and her body would be left with nothing but the hunger. Even if it was only a memory, it still had a strange hold on her mind.

Star placed her hand on the cool glass of the window, letting it contrast with her body heat. Knowing that she was still warm, that blood was pumping quickly and constantly beneath her skin...kept her mind focused. Sam and the others had gone to bed already, and she'd gone another night without dinner. They were beginning to worry about her. Worried that she was going to do something drastic.

Star glanced down at a plastic pill bottle in her left hand, which was not touching the window. They were absolutely right. Lucy Emmerson really should have paid more attention to her medicine cabinet. Star had gathered enough random pharmaceuticals to kill an elephant over the course of the last week.

Each time she took a pill or two, she told herself she would stop there. She told herself she'd put them all back, think no more of it, and go back to looking for Michael. But Star couldn't handle the visions of him on the boardwalk anymore, and she couldn't handle never being able to catch up with him when she turned around. There was only one way she knew she could definitely be with her lover, and it was not a happy thought.

Yet...flicking the cap off of the bottle...Star smiled to herself. Maybe in her final dream before the fog of the drugs claimed her final breath...she'd finally get to sun bathe on the beach in Michael's arms. Maybe.


	4. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael makes some poor choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What on earth could this mean? Probably something bad. Let's just assume it's something bad.

“Perfect. Really. Just how I wanted to spend my night. Digging in a fucking muddy ditch, looking for corpses,” Michael griped, not for the first time, as rain poured into the widening hole he and Marko had made.

For all his incessant bitching, Michael was finally treated to a mudball slung directly into his open mouth.

“AUGH! MARKO, YOU ASSHOLE!” Michael shouted, spitting out bits of wet dirt...and a very distressed earthworm. The poor thing had no idea how close it had just come to being digested by a vampire.

“My bad,” Marko snickered, unapologetic. Before Michael could leap at him and tear a chunk out of the smaller vampire's shoulder, David descended quickly into the hole with them and dug his claws into two tightly-wrapped garbage bags, which he triumphantly dug out of the mud and water as if he'd been the one doing all the work.

“Bingo!” David shouted, shaking the bags in the air and tossing them onto the grass nearby.

“Didn't get much of a funeral, did they?” Marko observed, taking one of the bags and gently ripping the top open. Inside he saw bits of charred bone and dust. It reeked of Paul.

“What do you think they did with Max?” Michael asked, grabbing the other bag and opening it as well. It was Dwayne. Even if Michael had only been half a vampire at most when he'd known the more quiet member of the group, Dwayne had a very distinctive smell. Probably from all the patchouli. The sunlight had done quite a number on both bodies, and it was going to take a lot of blood to bring them back to a semblance of 'living'.

David shrugged, tossing his cigarette to the ground and not bothering to stub it out. It was raining, he doubted it would start a fire.

“Probably sealed it in four wooden boxes and shipped them to different corners of the world so the master vampire could never be...what the fuck do you think they did to it, Michael? Your grandpa probably swept it up and buried it somewhere else.” David snorted.

Michael frowned, climbing out of the grave that had by this time become a shallow pool. His fingers slipped on the soil, so it wasn't easy. For Marko's part, he easily hovered up and over.

“Always doing things the hard way, ain't ya, Mikey?” Marko teased, slinging the bag with Paul's remains over his shoulder like he was Santa ready to head out and deliver goodies to little kids. It was doubtful any children would want what he had to offer.

Michael shrugged, wiping clumps of mud and grit from his jeans. He shouldn't have bothered taking his jacket off. There was no avoiding the fact that he was going to have to go hunting for new clothes anyway. Doing laundry in standing pools by the beach wasn't the most effective way to get anything cleaned.

Holding the bag out for David to take, Michael looked hopefully in the direction of his old family's house. The blonde gave him a half-smirk and shrugged, as if to say he didn't give a damn what Michael did.

Grinning, genuinely for the first time in awhile, he didn't have to take the hint twice. Michael shoved Dwayne's remains into David's arms and took off in the air towards the house. Towards Star.

 

* * *

 

She wasn't cold yet, but she would be soon. How long had Michael been sitting in his old bedroom with Star's body crushed to his own, weeping and whispering senseless words to bring her back to him? He had no idea. But he was certain that at any moment, David would come to find out why he was taking to long.

He hadn't planned on turning Star. Just seeing her. Telling her he was okay...maybe even making love, promising they would always be together if he could help it. Their re-union was supposed to be...magical.

The moment Michael had pulled open the bedroom window, he had already sensed death lingering in the air. As intimate as he'd become with the state of being, and the state of causing it over the past year...it was unmistakable. She hadn't been gone long. Perhaps when they'd just begun to dig for the other boys.

It had taken every ounce of strength within him not to give out an animalistic cry and wake the whole household. Star was lying on the bedroom floor with glassy open eyes, and a half-smile more peaceful than he could have ever imagined death might bring a person.

“I'm sorry,” Michael wept, holding her tighter. If she were still alive, she wouldn't be able to breathe. “I'm so sorry, Star,” he said again, pulling away to litter kisses on her forehead and cheek, her mouth and nose. Why did Disney movies make it seem like a little peck could bring back the princess, no matter the odds? What kind of bullshit was that, anyway?!

“Please come back,” he pleaded, almost delirious. Each time he'd taken a life, he'd felt sick. Angry. Hungry. So many emotions piled on top of another. But he'd never been quite so upset, because he'd never known the people he slaughtered. He'd never loved them.

“What am I gonna do now, Star, huh?” Michael demanded, though he doubted he'd receive a reply. One of the few promises David made to him that kept him going, aside from promising no harm would ever come to his human family...was that one day he could be with Star. Now that clearly wasn't going to happen, was it?

But...maybe...

Perhaps it was madness setting in. Delirium. A half-aware state of logical reasoning that most people face when they're greeted with the loss of a loved one. He really didn't know what made him do what he did.

It was as if Michael's body had a mind of it's own, when he laid Star's body back onto the ground and allowed himself to revert to his vampiric form. Honestly, sometimes it took more effort to look human. Now more than ever.

Dragging a claw across his right wrist, Michael pressed it to Star's mouth and waited. She couldn't swallow, because she was dead. She couldn't listen to his pleading cries, because...she was still pretty damn dead. So Michael tried to massage her throat, to force the blood to drip down. If David could do this, so could he. If they were going to bring Paul and Dwayne back from the dead, then why not Star? She wasn't ash and bones, her body was perfectly intact!

“Please, baby, drink for me...wake up...” Michael whispered, squeezing at his arm to urge the blood to drip faster. By now it had begun to pour from her mouth and down her lips...but some of it...some of it must have managed to drip down her throat. Surely, some of it.

“Michael, what the hell are you doing?!” Marko hissed from the window. Just in time to interrupt the romantic reunion.

Michael turned to growl at him and snap his fangs.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No need to be a little bitch, now...Mikey, you _really_ don't want to do what you're doing right now...” He continued talking, pulling himself in through the window and floating to the ground.

“You can't take her away from me again!” Michael growled, pulling his wrist to his mouth so he could lick away the remnants of the blood as the cut began to heal. He gazed down at Star, frowning.

“How long is it supposed to take before they wake up?” He asked, eyes flicking back towards Marko, who shrugged.

“Frankly, Mikey, I think if she woke up right now...we'd both be in deep shit. You better hope none of that blood got down her throat...”

“Why? I don't give a fuck what David thinks, I'm not letting Star die!” Michael snapped back.

“Not really what I meant...” Marko trailed off, jumping back towards the window when Star's arms began to twitch.

“Ah...shit...” David growled, his head popping up just in time to see what was happening.

“God damn it, Michael!” He hissed.

 


	5. Grumbling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam realizes Star is missing. Michael and Star are 'reunited'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running out of vaguely gerund-phrase titles here. Really glad I could kind of get this chapter out today. Been spending the past week trying to figure out which route to take. Glad I picked this one.

Sam scratched his back, yanking at his over-sized nightshirt as he knocked gently on Star's bedroom door. It was mid-afternoon, Saturday, and she still hadn't gotten up to leave for work.

“Hey, Star, are you getting up anytime soon?” He called, yawning. It wasn't easy living with someone who reminded him on a daily basis that his brother was pretty much as good as dead, for all he knew. But he liked Star. And he was getting really worried about her, since she'd been acting so strange lately.

Not that she ever acted...normal. It was like mopeyness was bred into her or something. Sure, they were all sad about Michael, but even he'd learned searching for his brother every single night on the boardwalk was fruitless.

“Star?” Sam repeated, cracking her door open slightly. He was always a little nervous to check on her, after a certain incident in which he'd forgotten to knock. As sad as she generally was, she could be a wildcat when she was upset.

“Hey, where'd you go?” Sam glanced around the room. She was already gone? Funny, gramps hadn't mentioned her leaving early that morning. And her bike was still outside.

He frowned, walking towards the closet and pulling it open just to see if maybe she'd fallen asleep in there or something. Who knew what girls did when they were alone? They were like a different species.

Still no Star. He frowned, swallowing back a whimper. This was beginning to feel way too familiar.

“Mom! Did you see Star leave the house this morning?!” Sam called out, dashing from the room.

“What?” Lucy Emerson shouted back from downstairs, fastening an earring into her left ear and crossing towards the foot of them to catch the sight of her youngest son tearing through the upstairs hall like the devil was on his tail.

“She's gone, mom! Star's gone! She's probably dead!!” Sam shouted, rushing into his mother's arms and squeezing her tightly.

“Oh, Sam, honey. That's silly. Why would you think something like that? She probably just went out for a walk,” Lucy rubbed her son's back and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hmph,” came the gruff sound of Grandpa Emmerson clearing his throat as he walked behind Lucy taking a swig of root beer.

“That girl probably finally lost it,” he shrugged, heading towards his workshop. Tact was not a skill he was known nearly so well for as carving up rabbit carcasses. He didn't dislike Star, but he viewed her as a guest. Frankly, at times, he viewed his daughter and grandson as guests too. The man had just spent too much time living alone to think of his home as a place to share with other people.

At first, Sam hadn't really understood his grandpa's behavior. He thought he was a little crazy. Maybe a little off-balance. They hadn't really gotten to know each other much as he was growing up, thanks to the fact that there was just too much distance between them for any visits beyond the occasional Christmas surprise. But recently, Sam had gotten just a little bit fonder of him. Maybe even understood him a little bit better. So he didn't take his grandfather's reaction to the news about Star too harshly.

“Listen, honey, Star will be home at some...point today. You had plans anyway, didn't you?” Lucy suddenly asked, pulling away from her youngest. She was heading down to her new job, and didn't want Sam to think she didn't care how distressed he clearly was. After all, Sam was really the only child she had now. Maybe...there was an off chance...that Michael might call her out of the blue some day, explain that he'd just decided to run off and get a job somewhere, make a fresh start after the trauma they'd been through. After all, he had mentioned once that he didn't really want to go back to school anyway. But for now, Lucy had simply learned to accept...that he was gone.

Careful to keep her face straight, to maintain the semblance of concern and strength she often mustered in front of her youngest son, Lucy smoothed his hair back and met his eyes.

“You were going to meet up with those friends of yours? They're dropping by Santa Carla for a visit, right?”

Sam nodded, smiling weakly at his mom.

Where was that sweet little boy she'd raised? The one who always had a snappy remark, a bit of attitude or a joke to throw at her? He'd disappeared the same day as Michael had. Now, she didn't even recognize him anymore. He was simply too calm for his own good.

“Maybe I...I was thinking of just staying home. I'll catch up with them next time they come down,” Sam said, glancing back upstairs towards Star's room. He wanted to make sure she came back.

“No, you're going out today. Sam, you need to start living your life again,” Lucy stated firmly, placing a hand under his chin and forcing him to make eye contact with her. In the past year, he'd grown a little bit taller. Enough to stand an inch or so above her...but she was still his mom, so she was still intimidating enough for her word to be final.

“I guess so,” Sam replied, putting a hand on hers and pushing it away gently.

“Edgar said something about moving back. Maybe. I guess I should meet them both in person to see what that's all about,” Sam added, shrugging.

He didn't know when he'd started to really care about Star, like she was an extension of his lost brother...but he did. And even when he did meet up with the Frogs, Sam was confident he'd spend the whole day worrying if she didn't show up...

 

* * *

 

 

The following night, Michael was still nursing his wounds, even after getting a good day's sleep. Marko and David had been so damned mad at him when they'd been forced to wrestle Star and fly her back to the cave with her arms and legs restrained, that they'd hardly said a word to him. Somehow, David was so mad, he'd forgotten his nightly 'bedtime punishment'. Which really didn't bother Michael too much...but the deep gauges and bite-marks from an insane Star-creature did.

He didn't understand what had happened to her. She woke up, and...she wasn't the same. She'd gone mad, tried to kill him on the spot, and very nearly managed to tear his throat out before David leaped into the room and tackled her to the ground.

They all had battle scars from the scuffle. It was a miracle nobody in the house had been woken. And now Star was hidden deep within one of the many caverns nestled below the sunken hotel, for her own protection and theirs. She was delirious...unable to even speak or recognize them. She was like...an empty shell. There was nothing inside her besides the bestial hunger, and the urge to lash out and consume anything living (or half-living) around her.

Sitting in the main lobby, leaning against the bed, Michael flinched when he pulled his shirt up to dab at a particularly large gauge in his stomach. It looked better than it had the previous night...but he still resembled a car crash victim on the verge of death. If any normal person saw him, they'd probably think he was some kind of zombie.

Michael had born the real brunt of the fight. David and Marko glared at him from across the lobby with their own battle scars, though, and still didn't speak. David was reclining in his wheelchair/throne and Marko was pacing. Neither had their shirts on, as they were too scratched up and sore to handle the fabric brushing up against their skin.

“Do you even know what you've done?” David hissed from across the room at Michael, grabbing a nearby bottle of blood and downing a good swig of it. So what if it was his own blood? He was hungry!

“I brought Star back...” Michael trailed off, looking up at the ceiling. “I think...”

“Fucking idiot...” Marko mumbled. For the first time, he didn't have even a slight hint of humor in his tone. He was too infuriated to even throw out a more thinly veiled sarcastic vibe at Michael's intelligence.

“That thing...” David gestured wildly with one arm, flinching when he lifted it as the healing wound on his shoulder sent a slight twinge of pain down his back.

“...Is _not S_ tar, you dip-shit! You can't turn someone when they're fully fucking dead, Michael! What you made was a god damned ghoul!”

“She's still a hell of a lot better company than you!” Michael snapped back, growing agitated at their agitation. He didn't like when other people were mad at him, it only made his own temper much worse. Like he was trying to out-do them.

“This is going to set us back by a couple of days,” Marko added in, crossing his arms.

“I'm never going to be the one getting a good fuck around here at this rate...” He grumped, kicking the wall.

“...What?” Michael raised an eyebrow at the odd statement.

“Clearly you're off-limits, Mikey. And Star...well, I don't really want it bad enough to have my dick ripped off in the middle, frankly. And David's a lousy-”

“MARKO!” David shouted, standing up and giving him a warning glare. Marko rolled his eyes in response.

“...I just miss Dwayne. And Paul...” Marko trailed off. “And we're going to need as much blood as we can get tonight to deal with the bullshit you just created. There's no way we're going to be able to bring enough people back to the cave tonight to bring them back!”

Michael winced at the thought. Just how many people were they going to have to kill?!

“As many as it takes,” David replied to his thought, ominously.

Marko crossed towards Michael and knelt with his hands on his knees, grinning wickedly.

“By the way...you're on feeding duty. So, congratulations Mikey! You got what you want! Enjoy the new fucking psycho pet you made, because she's immortal now!”

 


	6. Eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Frogs have something very serious to discuss with the Emersons. Michael has to feed star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, man. RIP Brooke McCarter. Only 52. Yet another member of this wonderful cast, gone before his time.

Edgar poked at the spaghetti on his plate, sniffing warily at a small jar of shredded garlic on the table.

 

"What's wrong boys, don't like garlic?" Lucy asked teasingly, hefting a good spoonful onto her own plate and stirring it delicately into the dish. After their run-in with The Lost Boys and Max, she'd developed quite the taste for it. Granted, garlic didn't  _really_ deter vampires, as they'd come to learn...but surely there had to be something behind the old belief. Maybe it didn't hurt them, but they'd still much prefer blood from a person who hadn't just chowed down on several dozen cloves. If any of the Emersons did some day become the meal of a ravenous monster, Lucy would make sure she could at least ruin the meal for them.

 

As for Edgar, he didn't much like garlic. Sure, he'd had to use it in his formative hunting stage (IE the only time he and his brother had actually taken on real vampires), but that didn't mean he was required to enjoy the stuff. It tasted way too strong, and smelt like sour gasoline.

 

"It's, uh...it's fine, Ms. Emerson. I'm just not that hungry," Edgar replied with a somewhat furrowed brow. It was the most cheerful face the boy was capable of making.

 

For his part, Alan was already on his second helping. He may be the skinniest boy at the table still, but he had an appetite that would put an irate hell-hound to shame. Sam was fascinated, just watching him shovel the spaghetti down his throat with hardly a chewing motion.

 

"Now, Alan, I do appreciate how much you're enjoying my cooking...but I'd also appreciate not having to take you to the hospital for a herniated throat. Please slow down," Lucy chided as she smiled sweetly at the somewhat less grumpy of the Frogs. He was still bad-tempered, but not as much as Edgar. Probably because he'd never taken a side for Marvel or DC, so the epic battles of nerd discussions had yet to jade him.

 

"Ugh, are you like part cow or something? Close your mouth when you're eating!" Sam exclaimed, finally tearing his eyes away from Alan to gingerly twirl some spaghetti onto his own fork. He had the good graces to display some semblance of table manners around his mother.

 

Gramps was nowhere in sight to make a comment on the meal, or the guests, because he was busy hiding out in his workshop...as usual. There wasn't much of a surprise there. Recently he'd had a bit of a fight with the widow Johnson, so his mood was even less social than usual. It suited Sam just fine. He didn't want to listen to his grandpa lecturing him about raccoon toes when he was trying to eat dinner. He already had enough trouble as it was, with mister garbage-truck across the table shoveling his meal in as if he hadn't had one in three straight days.

 

"Ms. Emerson, Alan and I got something to tell you. You're not gonna like it," Edgar spoke up, setting his fork down. He'd hardly taken more than a few bites. Clearly Alan was going to make up for his lack of appetite, however, because his brother didn't even pause to listen.

 

"We've been thinking a lot about Santa Carla lately, and the bloodsuckers that keep this city in constant terror. Alan and I have both decided that we're going to move in with you to help protect your family. And also, we really hate Florida." Edgar finished his last statement on a very dark note, tilting his head down for emphasis.

 

Lucy smiled politely and listened as the boy spoke, neither laughing nor really providing much of any reaction until she'd properly swallowed her food and taken a sip of ice water from her wine glass.

 

"That's very nice of you, Edgar. Alan..." She replied sweetly, dabbing at her face with a napkin. "We'd appreciate the gesture very much, but I don't think there's much room in the house for two more teenage boys. Not to mention, your family probably doesn't want you moving across the country to fight vampires. Especially not with school coming up very soon." Lucy was very good at humoring people. She didn't even bat an eye as she spoke. It rather sounded like she'd even given the idea some thought before replying.

 

"Then can we stay the week?" Alan asked, sopping up a bit of sauce that still remained on his plate with a piece of bread. Sam reached over to pull the serving dish of spaghetti slightly further from him, and gave his friend the ' _you've had enough, I'm cutting you off'_ look. Alan frowned and shrugged. He could easily slip back into the kitchen later when nobody was looking. Either way, he  _was_ going to get the rest of that spaghetti...and they all knew it.

 

"A week would be lovely, boys. Sam could really use the company. Speaking of which...Star still hasn't come home tonight...so when she shows up, please try to be a little more polite when you're talking about vampires. She can be very sensitive..." Lucy trailed off. None of them actually enjoyed the topic, but Star was the one who generally reacted the worst when anybody mentioned the 'v' word around her. It was likely from PTSD, seeing that she'd experienced a lot more at the hands of the Lost Boys than anyone else.

 

* * *

 

 

She was clawing at the cavern wall, blindly searching for escape. Trapped in a large pit, Star had spent the last hour or so simply going from one side to the other, digging her bloodied hands into the wall, the monster that she'd become relying solely on instinct to find a weak spot and perhaps get out of her subterranean prison to find food.

 

Michael watched from the top of the pit, frowning as he gently stroked the hair of Star's soon-to-be victim. Just a nameless drifter, from what he could tell. It was easier to eat people when he could pretend they had no real identities to focus on. This one he'd found sleeping under a dock at the boardwalk, half-awake and dazed from enough alcohol to pickle a large cat.

 

How was it that the beautiful girl he'd once known could so quickly become this...thing? Not once in her short time as a half-vampire had he ever seen the monster inside reveal itself. No hint of glowing eyes or fangs, no claws or ravenous appetite. He didn't even recognize what he'd made her in to. And that's really what he'd done. He'd  _made_ Star into this...

 

A slavering ghoul, driven by physical hunger, hell-bent on destroying anything with a pulse the moment she came into contact with it. Really, he should put...it...out of it's misery. Stake her. Throw her out into the sun. Give her a holy water shower.  _Something._ Michael knew in his heart that she wouldn't want this at all. She'd hate him for letting her become this.

 

Yet...the alternative? Michael shivered, hovering above the pit with his unconscious captive. No, the alternative was unthinkable. If this was the only way he'd be able to keep Star, then he'd just have to learn to live with it. Maybe some day she'd snap out of it. Maybe he'd just have to feed her enough to sate her appetite. Maybe he was fucking kidding himself, but it was better than killing the only thing in the world that made him feel like his old self. The only thing that made him think that yeah...maybe a part of him was still human.

 

Michael released the man in his arms, closing his eyes when he heard the intake of breath as the man awoke mid-fall. He didn't have a chance to scream, before the ravenous woman-thing in the pit leaped up to grab him and immediately tear into his flesh. The floor of the pit was painted red by the time Michael opened his eyes to look down.

 

"...I love you, Star," Michael whispered. She didn't hear him...she just mindlessly drug her tongue through the dirt after she'd completely drained her victim...trying to lap up every speck of crimson life she could get to. There would never be enough blood in Santa Carla to satisfy the beast.


	7. Dominating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and David have sex. Really, that's all there is to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see if I can throw in some dirty stuff for this chapter. I think I can manage it. You've been warned. Also, this got much steamier than I expected. Hope you enjoy. ;)

“ _Are you going to stand there watching her all night?”_ a familiar husky voice interrupted Michael's trance. He'd frankly become more than a little fascinated with Star's behavior down below. It was like watching an ant farm. Throwing her meal to her was like shaking it up, and waiting for the grit to settle as the insects inside struggled to recreate order from chaos. Only, she simply fought to clean up all of the blood, and was doing quite a good job of it too.

 

“I'm...I'm almost done...” Michael responded, wrapping his arms around himself and scooting towards the edge of the pit to get a better look. Hovering too long had gotten a bit exhausting. He hadn't had enough blood that night, since he'd been too focused on getting a warm body for Star to enjoy.

 

“You're done now, Michael,” David growled, grabbing him by the back of the neck and throwing him to the ground. Michael grunted, struggling to push himself up, only to feel claws digging into his back and forcing him down to kiss the dirt floor.

 

“Get off of me!” Michael howled, struggling to fling his attacker away, with little success. Already he could feel the accustomed arousal building inside him as their fight began. It was always like this. A struggle, blood, bites and scratches. Then...when he finally gave in...because he always did...bliss.

 

But right now, he was too focused on Star to even consider letting David win the fight this time. Michael was going to win.

 

“Are you?” David asked, in response to his thoughts, flipping Michael onto his back and pinning his arms to the ground with a vicious grin. David's fangs had descended now, and he looked like he was much more in the mood to suck blood than cock.

 

“YES!” Michael screeched, feeling his own fangs descend as he pulled his knee forward to slam into David's crotch.

 

Vampires are indescribably evil creatures, generally, with unimaginable powers far beyond that of any living man. But getting kneed in the balls is still pretty fucking painful. David hissed as he rolled away from Michael and pulled his knees to his chest.

 

“You're going to pay for that...” David grunted, blinking several times and struggling to recover from the unexpected attack. Michael had gotten so much more complacent lately, he'd almost forgotten how dirty the boy's fighting got when he wasn't in the mood.

 

“Go to hell!” Michael snapped, pulling himself to his feet and preparing to run. Getting some distance from David would at least give him time to come up with a plan of action. Not that he ever got very far. But maybe if he just had a little more time, he could find something good and hard to knock his 'master' out with. Momentarily, Michael pondered if there might be a baseball bat hidden away somewhere in one of the destroyed hotel rooms....did people even play baseball back in 1906?

 

“MICHAEL!” David roared, flying after him as he tried to run away. The chase only incensed the older vampire more as he snatched Michael up and flew into the air with his claws digging into Michael's shoulders.

 

“Just get it over with already...” Michael hissed between his teeth when David pressed close to him and began to sniff at his neck.

 

“You smell good,” David whispered, his tone a cross between a demon and a man with serious blue balls. The sound sent a shiver down Michael's spine as he likewise wrapped his own arms around David's torso. As much as he tried to fight it, and god did he want to fight it tonight...David just felt so damn...good...pressed up against him like this.

 

The older vampire growled, sliding his fangs across Michael's neck and drawing just a pinprick of blood. He pulled his face away, grinning triumphantly at his prize, who by now had a glazed look in his eyes. It was enough to bring the beast out. Honestly, Michael was way too easy. Even when he fought back, there was no hiding how much he secretly enjoyed these little trysts together.

 

“I should punish you for this...” David trailed off, running a hand under Michael's shirt and caressing his chest. “Not to mention that little mistake down there,” he added casually, referring to Star, when he used his other hand to push Michael's jacket from his shoulders. Since they were still a dozen feet in the air, it plummeted to the ground.

 

“Mh...” Michael tried... _tried_ to come up with a snappy comeback. But he was just too damned horny now to focus anymore. It was absolutely delicious.

 

“You're lucky you can't get pregnant, Mikey...” David teased, digging his teeth into Michael's shirt collar and tearing at it like a crazed animal.

 

“Because you're just so easy to fuck,” David added darkly. He loved these moments when he could just make sly observations, and destroy his lover's clothing in the process. After their nights together, especially the more...athletic ones...he loved the sound of Michael's bitchy complaints about his limited wardrobe. It wasn't easy for the boy, having to hunt practically every other night just so he could walk around the cave in something other than tattered scraps of fabric. Not that David minded the sight at all. He quite liked it, actually. Even when Marko made the passing snide remark.

 

“Not the pants,” Michael protested weakly, by the time they'd descended to the cave floor and began to really tear at each other. David quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

“They're designer,” Michael added, obliging David by undoing his own fly for emphasis. The fights rarely lasted too long these days, even if they both always started them with the idea that either David or Michael was going to end up half-dead before either got to cum.

 

“That is...the gayest thing you've ever said...” David drawled, using a claw to tear off the top button of Michael's jeans anyway. He didn't need to. He _wanted_ to.

 

“God damn it, David!” Michael snapped, trying to shove him away. This wasn't the panicked gesture of a man trying to escape a vicious battle, but the irritable reaction of a lover. Or an irate wife.

 

 _Oh shit...is that what we've turned into?_ David pondered, pulling himself up as he began to strip off his own coat. He gazed down at Michael, who had peeled off the tattered layers of his t-shirt by now and began to struggle to pull down the upper portion of his jeans before they were completely destroyed. Quite a feat, when he was trapped beneath David's grinding crotch.

 

David smirked, licking his lips. No. The sex was way too good.

 

“So, are you just going to fucking watch me all night, or are you going to do something?” Michael asked moodily, glaring up at David. The younger vampire's cock was rigid, and for a moment David fancied it was just as angry as it's owner. Good. After the shit they'd been through when Michael decided to make a pet ghoul, he deserved to be a little bit more frustrated than usual.

 

As an aside, he still loved the sight of that fleshy monster. It reminded him of the night he'd first seen Michael. Heartbreak about Dwayne and Paul's temporary death's aside...Michael had a glorious dick.

 

“Let me think about it,” David replied, slowly reaching towards the bottom of his own shirt. As if he was thinking about whether or not he'd take it off. Not that it really mattered...his penis was in his pants, not under his top. Still, he was going to do this tortuously slow anyway.

 

“God damn it, David!” Michael shouted, trying to push him away. He wasn't very effective in his efforts. The master vampire was way too persistent. Every time Michael tried to push at his hips to shove him away, David scooted forward an extra inch and ground his crotch against Michael's erect cock. They'd moved across the cave floor at least three feet playing this little game together.

 

“Are you _ever_ going to do something that stupid again?” David asked, pausing. His hands still hovered over his shirt, though by now he'd managed to pull it up halfway. Just enough to reveal his stomach.

 

“ _No_.” Michael whispered, biting his bottom lip to keep from screaming when David gave a little twitch of his hips.

 

“Hm?” David repeated, leaning down. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear...”

 

“NO. I WON'T. I WILL NEVER DO SOMETHING THAT STUPID AGAIN. NOW, GET ON WITH IT!” Michael shouted, digging his claws into the earth below him. He was getting to the point where words were much more difficult to think about. He was almost as delirious as his pet in the pit below, who had managed to lick up every last bit of her meal at this point, and was howling into the sky to indicate her intense hunger. Between Star's shouting and Michael's, David was beginning to get a headache.

 

“...Get on with it...what?” David asked, batting his eyes. The effect was somewhat unsettling, but not enough to leave Michael flacid.

 

“... _Are you seriously going to do this tonight_?” Michael questioned, unable to resist a small whimper. He may have been good at playing the part of a macho ladykiller...but in the 'bedroom'...he was unbelievably submissive. David had trained him all too well.

 

“Yes. Until you learn how to say it without questioning me, I am.” David stated matter-of-factly, finally pulling off his shirt and throwing it to the side. He misjudged, however, and the clothing went flying into the pit below. Star immediately tore into them, eliciting a mental curse from David. That was his favorite shirt...

 

“...Get on with it... _master_.” Michael gritted out, reaching down to grab at David's fly and impatiently tug it down.

 

“I thought you'd never ask!” David exclaimed, putting on a very good act as he pretended to sound surprised. He lifted himself up and finished unzipping his own pants, tugging them down below his waist while Michael accommodated his legs to wrap around him.

 

David almost regretted the mental tug-of-war they'd been playing, as he shifted to find the right position with his lover. His cock was aching to find a nice home to nestle in. Michael would surely be loose enough to accommodate him, considering how much practice they'd had on a nightly basis. Not that drawing blood or causing a minor tear now and then ever hindered him. The nice thing about being a vampire? Healing. Instantaneously. Lubricant was superfluous in David's mind. Granted, Michael complained once in awhile, but it really wasn't that big of a deal.

 

Their coupling was wild, and far more satisfying than any romp David had ever enjoyed with the others. There was just something about Michael. Maybe it was those eyes, flashing between the golden glow of a vampire and the bright blue shine of his human side. Maybe it was his chocolate curls David ached to drag his fingers through. Maybe it was just the fighting. He wasn't sure...but god damn, the fucking was always incredible.

 

Michael never admitted it aloud, but they both knew David could read his thoughts. Even if he loved Star...or perhaps the memory of her...there was a large portion of him that enjoyed the sex just as much as David.

 

Their bodies were both cold, the unfortunate state of being undead, but to each other...the friction between them created an indescribable heat. Not once had David or Michael ever finished without the other following soon after. Tonight was no different. Buried deep within his lover, David screamed with a satisfactory roar. Michael's own cries joined his, as well as Star's frustrated screams below. For a moment, in the haze of pleasure...David wondered if she was even capable of understanding what they were roaring about.

 

He smirked, gazing down at Michael, who seemed just about ready to fall asleep after their little escapade on the cave floor. It didn't really matter, did it? He had what he wanted. He had Michael. And soon...he'd have the whole pack again. Granted, he didn't really want to fuck Paul or Dwayne, but he'd definitely gloat about his affair with his reluctant lover. Before they'd died, the whole pack had a running bet whether David would get to be top or bottom.

 

David grinned. He'd won. He always won.

 


	8. Preparing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the Frogs take a late night trip to the boardwalk. David and the boys begin the festivities for Dwayne and Paul's homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter.

"I don't know about this, guys. If mom finds out...I'm going to be in some major trouble," Sam rubbed the back of his head as he followed Edgar and Alan out of the front door. They were dressed in their usual commando gear, Edgar with his traditional bandanna and Alan with his green beret. For Sam's part, he'd just slipped on a Hawaiian shirt and some long shorts. He ignored the remarks Edgar made about his choice of clothing. What did the Frogs know about fashion? Clearly they still hadn't gotten the message that they missed the 60s by about two decades.

"Listen, Sam, we've got a duty to protect this city. There's no telling how many bloodsuckers are out there on the boardwalk, now that we've been gone for so long. We're just making a statement tonight, letting them know we're here and we're ready to do what we have to," Edgar rounded on him, as Sam gently closed and locked the front door.

"Truth, justice, and the American way...remember?" Alan added, stepping up behind his brother and crossing his arms for emphasis.

Sam rolled his eyes. There was a reason he hadn't been too upset when they left Santa Carla. Sure, when he was trying to save his brother from ravenous monsters, their spiels and knowledge about the undead had been really useful. But besides comics, they really didn't have that much else to talk about. They were fairly limited conversationalists.

"Well, if gramps finds out we took his car... _again..._ You're taking the heat. Got it? I don't want him to skin and stuff me," Sam shook his head. Grandpa Emerson _had_ made veiled threats every so often when he caught Sam looking at his car too long, after their first 'joyride'.

Edgar snorted, snatching the keys from out of Sam's hands and turning around to head towards the garage.

"Is he serious?" Sam looked at Alan, frowning.

"Are you serious?!" He directed his shout at Edgar, jogging to catch up with him. It was a wonder he didn't wake mom or grandpa up in the process.

"You almost drove us off a cliff last time. I'm driving." Edgar informed him, grabbing the bottom of the garage door and slowly pulling it up.

"Yeah, well that was partly your fault," Sam snapped, walking around to the passenger side only to get a glare in response.

"What?" Sam asked, looking down at the handle to the passenger door.

"I called shotgun," Alan stepped up behind him and nudged Sam away.

"No you didn't!" Sam protested.

"Yes I did, when we were eating."

"You were mumbling with a mouthful of half-chewed noodles, that doesn't count." Sam glared back and forth from Edgar to Alan. But he was outnumbered.

By the time they'd all settled into the car and Edgar had begun to pull away, Sam was grumpily sitting in the back seat with his arms crossed.

"So, what does your brother's bike look like?" Alan turned back to look at Sam.

"What?" Sam raised an eyebrow. What did that have to do with anything?

"You said you thought he didn't nail blondie all the way, then he went missing the next morning, right?" Edgar asked, directing his eyes forward while the engine purred into life.

Sam really didn't like this line of questioning. Were they seriously going to try to find Michael?

"Guys, he's been gone for a year. No calls. No nothing. I haven't even seen his bike since he left. Don't you think I'd have seen him by now if he was still in Santa Carla?"

Alan shrugged, turning back to face forward. "Maybe he doesn't want you to find him," he said ominously, fingering a sharpened wooden stake tucked under his jacket.

Not for the first time. Not for the second. Not even for the hundredth time...Sam seriously wondered why he still talked to these guys. Vampires being real aside. Sometimes they sounded like they were just nuts.

"If he is here. And...if he is a shit-sucking vampire...you're not staking my brother, got it?" Sam warned.

"It's what he'd want, Sam." Edgar said, glancing over at his brother and half-smirking. "I mean, if Alan was a vampire, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"...What?" Alan glanced at Edgar, his bad-ass act dropping for just a split second.

"And if it happened to me...I'd want you to to be the one holding the stake, bro. Because I love ya." Edgar patted Alan's shoulder.

"...I'd stake you in a heartbeat too, Eddie." Alan smirked, patting his brother's shoulder in turn.

Sam looked back and forth between both of them and shivered. "You guys are real weird sometimes, you know that?" Seriously, what kind of brothers talked about killing each other as if it were an endearing family gesture?!

"Truth, justice, and the American way, Sam." Alan repeated their mantra.

"Ed, the boardwalk is that way..." Sam leaned forward pointing to his left.

"...Right. I knew that." Edgar frowned, abruptly stopping the car and spinning the wheel.

"Hey, watch it!" Sam protested, leaning into the side of the car to brace himself. And they thought _he_ was a crazy driver?!

* * *

Marko checked and double-checked his supplies. Two sets of spare clothes for Paul and Dwayne, complete with some of their old jackets. Got it. Paul and Dwayne's ashes in two small boxes for easy transport. Done. Massive bonfire on the beach with enough beer and drugs to kill a large elephant. Check. Dozens of unwitting guests invited to said bonfire...that part was tough, actually, but he'd managed to pull it off. Offering a sizable portion of Paul's primo stash had really won some of the local gangs over. Never mind if he got mad about it later when he was 'alive' again. Paul smoked too much anyway.

Marko smirked, stacking the boxes and clothing together and glancing over at Thorn, who was pacing the lobby excitedly. The hell-hound was just as excited as him, practically feeding off of his emotions.

"You got everything?" David called out, stepping into the room and dusting off his coat sleeves.

"Where's your shirt?" Marko raised an eyebrow, mentally noting that Dwayne would probably think David was trying to copy his look. The darker-haired vampire didn't talk much, but he was awfully prideful of being the only member of their group who kept his abs on full display at any and all times.

"...I don't want to talk about it..." David frowned, kneeling down to scratch behind Thorne's ears when the hell-hound approached him.

Michael appeared from behind David, holding a needle in his teeth as he adjusted his pants. A long blue thread hung down from the needle, and it looked like he was trying to stitch the top closed. Marko smirked and bit at the thumb of his right glove. It wasn't hard to figure out what they'd been doing. Michael's irritated glances at David told the whole story.

"So the baby isn't coming?" Marko teased, gathering up the boxes of Dwayne and Paul's remains and passing them off to Michael after he finished stitching up the top of his jeans. For his part, Marko decided to carry the clothes. They were much lighter, and he didn't want to accidentally spill any ashes on his jacket. It had taken him way too long to get the stains out when he'd been nearly killed last year, and he wasn't going to go through the heartbreak again of stitching new patches.

"I don't think she even knows who we are," Michael sighed miserably, looking up at the cave ceiling. She was deep enough in the sunken hotel that her screams weren't ear-shattering, but every so often they could all hear the occasional echo in the lobby.

David rolled his eyes, lighting up a cigarette and tucking it between his lips.

"So are we going, or what? Moonlight's burning boys, and I wanna get this done _tonight._ "

* * *

The fire was a monster. It was like Marko had dragged up half a forest just to get it going. There was no chance that anyone on the boardwalk didn't see the orange glow from the beach. If Santa Carla had for any measure of time begun to fall behind as the murder capital of the world, Michael was sure tonight would put it in first place again for good.

"You ready for this?" Marko nudged Michael as the younger vampire set the boxes of ashes on the ground and crossed his arms. They were standing just far enough for the bonfire not to be seen by the myriad party-goers, but close enough to feel the intense heart.

"No," Michael grumbled when David stepped up to put an arm around his shoulders.

"Relax, Mikey, this is what our nights are all about. The party. The thrill. The blood. You just gotta admit you like it just as much as we do. For once...just once...try not to be such a whiny bitch." David laughed, jumping back when Michael tried to take a swipe at him. His laughter forced smoke to curl out of his mouth in a rushed jet from around the cigarette still safely tucked in the corner of his lips.

"Watch the temper, Mikey..." David warned playfully. He'd fuck him right then and there if he had to...to prove a point, of course.

"You think that's enough? Enough blood-bags?" Marko licked at his teeth. He hadn't waited too long to shift into his vampiric form. He'd made sure there were plenty of guests for them all, but the monster inside was always paranoid there'd never be enough blood. Especially when he was excited, like tonight. This was going to be one wild party...

"It's plenty," David informed him, shifting as well.

"So...how are we supposed to do this?" Michael nudged the boxes he'd set at his feet, stubbornly refusing to change with the other two. He'd put it off as long as he could, for the sake of being defiant. But it wasn't easy. When the others shifted, something in his veins always seemed to spark to life and needle at the back of his mind until he gave in. But he'd hold it off for now.

"It's like a Chia Pet, Mikey. Slit some throats and then pour the blood in the box. Boom. Instant resurrection," Marko laughed, hiding under the shadow of a nearby tree when the sound drew the attention of a couple making out by the bonfire. For David's part, he was safely turned away from them. It wouldn't do to alert the sacrificial lambs too soon before they were really ready to party down with them.

"That is nothing like a Chia Pet." Michael rolled his eyes.

"Enough talk...let's dig in," David hissed, taking to the sky and diving towards the party. Marko wasn't too long to follow. Pretty soon, laughter and song melted into shrieks and whimpers. Michael wrinkled his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. _'Don't change. Don't change...don't change...'_ He mentally focused, though the claws had already descended. He was still thinking his mantra when he lashed out at the first escapee of the night and brought a tattooed throat to his mouth.

The blood lust won out, like it always did. Just like David.


	9. Resurrecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Frogs and Sam do some sleuth work, Dwayne and Paul are brought back from the dead with a vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...discovered I was spelling Alan wrong. I will eventually go back and edit this grievous error. How many people honestly spell it that way, though?! Anyway, there will be some mild to I guess what you'd call hardcore gore in this scene. Blood. Guts. All that gross stuff.

“Hey, kid...c'mere...” Edgar gestured to a small boy munching on a mouthful of cotton candy. His mother was busy talking, so she didn't notice the curious child slip away.

“Yeah?” The boy lisped, licking bits of pink sugar from around his lips.

“Have you seen this guy anywhere?” Edgar reached under his coat and pulled out a wallet-sized photo of Michael that had been folded 6 times and chewed on by Nanook twice. It was the only picture Sam had handy.

“Nooooo,” the boy shook his head, his voice getting a little higher pitched with each second he let the word draw out.

“Really? Not like...on a bike? With other guys...on bikes?” Edgar urged.

“I like cotton candy,” the boy hinted, grinning. He couldn't be more than five, but already he seemed like a real con artist to Edgar.

“Do you know something?” Alan knelt down beside his brother and glared at the kid.

“Depends...is there cotton candy in it for meeee?” The boy asked, stepping away from them and tucking his hands into the back of his pants to hitch them up from the inside.

Sam looked over at the kid's mother nervously, and then back at the frogs.

“Guys, I don't think we should be giving candy to kids we don't know...”

“Do you wanna find your brother or not, Sam?” Alan demanded, glaring at him.

“Not if it means getting my ass arrested!” Sam protested, when the boy's mother suddenly looked up and began striding towards them with a look of murder in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Once, as a kid, the family car had broken down in the desert on a road trip. They'd been stuck there waiting for someone to hopefully drive by for seven hours. From then, until the blood lust, Michael had never been so thirsty. Swallowing saliva only agitated his throat, making him even more frustrated when he couldn't sate it.

And now, every night that they hunted, which was most nights, Michael thought of that road trip. It couldn't compare to the pain of resisting what he needed. Rich, warm life pumping in rivers through the veins of the humans around him at the bonfire...it was almost beautiful, to the beast inside him.

He let his drained victim fall to the sand with a soft thump. An empty shell now. Marko was right when he'd told him about a year ago that the killing would cease to really matter. He still wanted it to, though. He was terrified of himself, sometimes.

“Join the party, Michael!” Marko shouted, hovering above the fire with a partially-roasted junkie in his arms. He was still alive, and his shrieks were clearly exciting the monster that held him to no end.

Michael grabbed the boxes of Dwayne and Paul's remains, and gingerly climbed down the small hill that merged into the sand dunes the party-goers were skittering through. Left and right, David was grabbing and slashing throats. Sometimes he would lick his bloodied claws and grin at the sight of the crimson sprinklers he'd turned his victims into.

Michael dropped the boxes at his maker's feet and crossed his arms.

“What now?” He asked warily, reaching out to snatch a hysterical woman who'd somehow manage to escape David's attention. Holding her close to his chest, stroking her hair with one hand as if she were a lover, Michael kept the other over her mouth. The screaming was giving him a headache.

“If you calm down, I'll let you live,” he whispered into her ear. A sweet lie that sometimes worked to soothe the many meals he'd had over the past year. She went lax against him, and he continued to watch David, awaiting instructions he didn't really have any interest in following.

“Careful, Michael. They don't taste as good if they aren't a little scared of you...” David smirked, tucking a cigarette in his mouth as he knelt down to flip the boxes open. He was standing in the center of a pile of bloodied bodies, many of them still spurting blood from their throats and quivering madly in the sand. Like frogs in a science class when you shocked their muscles.

The brunette shrugged, noting that the woman in his arms seemed to be bursting into a fresh wave of panic after hearing David's warning. She was quickly catching on that he had no interest in letting her live.

Michael drew back his lips and sunk his teeth into her neck, eyes trained on David casually while he drank. The woman screamed into his hand, and he felt the slight vibration of sound against his fingers.

What followed almost gave Michael pause. Almost. He was still too thirsty to draw himself away from his second course. Drops of blood fell into both boxes, then suddenly...the dust and bits of charred bone began to stir. It was like they were living things, somehow held together in their grayish-black masses as they climbed over the edges of their respective boxes and flew towards the bloodiest and closest bodies at hand.

“Whoa...” Marko descended from the sky. He'd already disposed of the body he'd been snacking on. Even if he was an immortal bloodsucker with the ability to fly and sleep on the ceiling with nothing but his toes to support him...he was thoroughly impressed by the peculiar sight. David and Michael were, too.

The cloud of dust and bones that had picked the choicest body seemed to be shifting. There was less gray and more white in the mixture, and a strange crackling sound filled the air about them. Not from the bonfire, but from the bones inside the mass. They were re-forming. Re-shaping into a skeleton. But one body was not enough, and it quickly jumped to another, to continue to sate it's hunger.

_'How is it even feeding?_  ' Michael wondered, dropping the now lifeless woman to the ground. He was un-phased by the look of terror that remained frozen in her glassy eyes. He honestly wasn't even looking.

The other cloud of dust and bones, not to be outdone, had latched onto a third body of it's own by now, and had actually fully formed into a gruesome skeleton at this point, with streaks of meat adhering to it's ribs.

“Oh, that one's gotta be Dwayne,” Marko observed, pointing to the other skeleton. Wisps of dark hair had begun to form on it's crown. Paul's re-shaping remains let out a loud cackle, followed by a howl. It's internal organs were beginning to form now, as well as a tongue and set of bloodshot eyes.

“Shit...” Michael's jaw dropped open. If he wasn't a vampire, he'd be freaked the fuck out right about now. Honestly, he kind of was anyway.

“How ya feeling, boys?” David shouted, laughing when Dwayne's skinless corpse turned on him and let out an irritated hiss. Clearly he wasn't in the mood for jokes right now.

“C'mon, Paulie! YEAH!” Marko clapped his hands when Paul leapt to yet another body, and tore into the ribcage with glee, licking at the gore like a crazed toddler who had still yet to grasp the concept of how to eat spaghetti.

“Which one do you think is gonna be done first?” David wondered aloud, leaning on Michael's shoulder. He could only shrug in response.

“Probably Dwayne. He's not playing with his food as much,” Michael sighed. Not for a moment did he even think about the fact that for the first time he'd actively called the people they killed 'food' out loud.

David silently watched the others as they continued to feast, and then his eyes slid over to examine Michael's face. Each night he saw a new side to the boy. A new facet of the predator he'd created. It would be heart-warming, if he still had a pulse.

 

* * *

 

By the time they were all sated, they were lying on the sand together in a group, drenched in red. When Paul and Dwayne had finally gotten themselves back together, the others had decided to finish off the rest of the leftovers. There would not be one survivor to tell anyone of the carnage that night.

“You know, there is one good thing about that accident you made back at the cave...she can eat all the leftovers. Easy cleanup,” David remarked, lifting himself up on his elbows and smirking at Michael.

“Don't call her that,” Michael grumbled, not meeting his gaze.

“So, like...what the hell happened?” Paul interrupted, a little bit more focused on the fact that he and Dwayne had not only had the best fucking time of their lives, but they weren't roasted fertilizer at the back of the Emerson's property anymore.

Marko laughed, sitting up and pulling Paul in for an unexpected and wild kiss.

“Whoa! Nice to see you too!” Paul laughed, shoving Marko away and giving his hair a playful tug.

“How long were we dead?” Dwayne inquired quietly, sitting up and frowning at David.

“Good question. Mikey, boy, when's your anniversary?” Marko winked at Michael, and the brunette simply glared at him. Both Marko and David were quite used to the glares. Not that they'd ever been phased by his shitty moods anyway. Their indifference irritated Michael even more. But what was he supposed to say? 'Take my anger seriously'? Even in his mind, saying something like that made him seem like a whiny bitch.

“One year....and 2 days.” David tucked a cigarette in his mouth and patted his coat pockets searching for his lighter. Michael rolled his eyes and pulled out a box of matches he had tucked away in his jacket. David was always losing that god damned thing.

“Here. And start packing your fucking lighter before we go out,” Michael passed him the matches. It escaped him how affectionate the gesture seemed, but Marko noticed. And Paul definitely did. They exchanged a smug look and remained silent.

No one said much after that. They just stared out at the ocean. Bits of chewed up flesh and intestine were being carried away by the tide. Paul was definitely a messy eater.

“Aw, shit!” Marko suddenly slapped his forehead.

The others looked at him curiously.

“I'm gonna have to wash my jacket again!” He grabbed a rock nearby and angrily threw it out into the surf.

 


	10. Hanging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets in trouble. The boys get ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a friend of mine ask me today if I had a thing for Marko, after she read through these stories. Reply - I've got a thing for all the boys. Oh, also, there's some bad language and sex talk in this chapter. Pretty much like all of them...

“You boys should be ashamed of yourselves! Talking to small children at night, luring them away from their parents...that's _exactly_ the sort of behavior that gets you arrested! What on earth were you thinking? Really! Sam, your grandfather is _very_ upset with you...I mean, he may not say it. But I'm pretty sure you will _not_ be getting that stuffed jackalope he promised you for Christmas...” Lucy Emerson angrily lectured all three of them while she struggled to shift her father's jeep into the right gear. With all of the missing persons cases skyrocketing as of late, locals were much quicker to report anyone acting suspicious. Since Sam and the Frogs had come off as if they were attempting to kidnap the little boy they'd been interrogating, it hadn't taken much to get them dragged to a police station for a severe lecture from an over-worked cop.

Edgar and Alan had remained silent throughout the affair, stoically refusing to tell anyone of their noble quest to vanquish the vampires in Santa Carla. Sam had practically burst into tears when he told the cop his mother's phone number.

“...And I know you wouldn't harm a small child, since you're generally very _good_ boys, but just imagine what it looked like...you didn't even fill up the gas tank...chores...I'm going to call your parents, Edgar. Alan. I'm very upset right now...” Sam was only listening to bits and snatches of Lucy's lecture now, because he'd suddenly been struck by a very strange thought. The kid had actually been holding out on them. Almost been prepared to tell them something...so... _were_ there bikers on the boardwalk again? Was one of them Michael?

“ _Hey...Sam_...” Edgar whispered into Sam's ear, nudging him.

“... _Ed, now is not the time...”_

“ _I think maybe that kid knew something...”_

Alan pressed in on the opposite side of Sam, and he realized how uncomfortable the middle seat was right at that moment. Why didn't he pick the front seat beside his mom?

“ _Guys, we've got to figure out what that kid knew!”_ Alan whispered.

“ _Will you both stop it? We can talk about this later! We're already-”_ Sam unintentionally started to hiss louder, drawing Lucy's attention. She glared at them in the rear-view mirror.

“If you think for a second that this is over, it's not! Edgar. Alan. I'm calling your parents tonight. As for you, Sam, you've got a lot of housework to do tomorrow.”

Sam groaned, letting his head fall back. Why the hell did he even consider letting the Frogs visit for the summer? Maybe poor choices of friends ran in the family. At least if Mike _was_ still alive out there somewhere, he might not be going through the same kind of bullshit.

 

* * *

 

They'd returned to the sunken hotel not long after Marko's outburst. Dawn would arrive soon, and none of them wanted to be caught in the daylight. If they were _all_ dust, a second resurrection wasn't likely to happen. Even if one of them did survive, and organized another bonfire dinner...the human resources in Santa Carla weren't inexhaustible. Sooner or later they'd run out of food if they routinely gorged themselves as much as they had tonight.

As much as Marko and Paul remarked on the joys of nude sleeping, Dwayne wasn't too keen on the idea. So they didn't immediately retire for the night. First they saw to gathering some clothes. Marko was reluctantly forced to set his jacket aside and wear a spare, so he could wash the dirtied one later. There were at least three patches he was going to have to replace.

The oil barrels in the lobby were burning cheerfully when Paul strolled around the fountain tugging and shifting at his coat. Every so often he'd pause and scratch at a corner on his shoulder, or just under a sleeve cuff.

"Shit man, it's all musty now. Marko, couldn't you have kept the pigeons from crapping on my stuff?" He griped, though there wasn't any real irritation in his tone. Honestly, he was just trying to make a verbal point for the nude sleeping idea. Dwayne, David, and Michael weren't buying it though, so they remained silent.

"Guess you'll just have to deal with it, Paulie," Marko shrugged, smirking over at his pack-mate as he tenderly stroked the head of one of said birds. How a vicious killer like him could show any affection for cuddly animal friends, none of them could understand.

Michael smirked at them both, letting the expression shift into a frown when Paul glanced over at him. He busied himself with properly stitching the button back onto his jeans. He probably should have taken them off to do it, but he really didn't want to be half-naked, and he didn't have a spare sitting around to wear in the meantime. Craning down on the mattress of the mildewy lobby bed, he wondered if perhaps he should add an extra button for security. Or two.

David reclined in his 'throne', stretching his head from side-to-side. He missed the chatter between Paul and Marko. Maybe it could keep the little guy from interrupting him during sex with smartass remarks. David's lips twitched into a quick frown...when he wondered if...then again...Paul was just going to make it worse...was he going to have to make a new cave rule? Necktie on one of the oil barrels means 'stay out or shut your fucking mouth'? No...that wouldn't work. He didn't  _own_ a necktie.

Before he could let the idea get to him, David felt a slight shiver run down his spine, as a familiar voice pressed into his mind. A voice he hadn't shared thoughts with in over a year. Dwayne.

“ _Michael didn't have his first kill when we were dusted. Max is gone. Explain.”_ Dwayne wasn't the sort to leave anything unspoken.

“ _He was overcome with passion, rushed into my arms when you were fried on the stereo, and demanded I screw his halfie brains out. Max tried to interrupt us, so Michael ripped his head off. Then he drank my blood while I finger-fucked him. It was the stuff Danielle Steele novels are made of. A modern day Gone With the Wind,”_ David drawled back, smirking over at Dwayne when the raven-haired vampire gave him a look of disgust combined with disbelief. He wasn't buying it.

“ _...Okay, maybe I took a little poetic license there, but it pretty much all happened. More or less,”_ David shrugged. Before Dwayne could ask any more questions, David rose to head towards bed. Just in time, too. The skyline was becoming exceedingly bright outside...

 

* * *

 

Paul couldn't stop snickering. He'd been listening in on David's story, and really wanted to believe it word for word. But something told him little Mikey probably wasn't as easy as he made it sound. Clearly the guy had a stick up his ass, and probably didn't want anything else up there with it.

Even as they flew after Marko and David towards their new sleeping quarters, Paul continued down that line of thought. He privately wondered if he'd get to try the brunette out for a spin one of these days when he suddenly got a very sharp look from David.

“What? I didn't say anything!” Paul protested aloud, hovering upwards to latch his feet onto their resting perch.

“You were thinking it though,” David hissed ominously. Even in the darkness of the cave, there was no mistaking the glowing aura of menace in his eyes.

Paul held out his hands in front of his face, his hair hanging down behind him, “David, I promise...I'm not gonna do anything!”

“Yeah, don't try it Paulie...” Marko nestled beside him and shoved his shoulder.

“I've tried it. Lost a finger once. Davey's a little pissy when it comes to his bottom bitch over there...”

“I'M NOT HIS BITCH!” Michael shouted, glaring at them from below. He hadn't yet begun to rise to join them for the night. But he knew who Marko was referring to.

“Michael, get up here,” David summoned him with a wag of his finger. Michael pointedly turned his face away, ignoring him, and making as if he was going to leave the room. Maybe he's just go sleep near Star (safely out of her attack range), just to show he could. She was better company than them, anyway.

“Michael...” David warned.

“... _asshole...”_ Michael thought viciously, when he reluctantly joined them after all. There was no telling what kind of example David would make of him with the newly-risen members of the pack back in the cave to watch. It probably wouldn't be very pleasant.

“ _Isn't that cute,”_ Paul cooed in Marko and Dwayne's minds. They both smirked back at him.

“ _Better than the shit he'd pull with Star,”_ Dwayne replied, yawning and stretching as the curtains of sleep began to close around him.

“ _You're in for a treat tomorrow. Mikey did something **much** worse to her...” _ Marko added gleefully. As if to illustrate his point, a distressed roar echoed through the cave. The call of a beast that did not want to go to sleep.

Michael looked towards the source of the sound, furrowing his eyebrows guiltily. He privately wondered if he should have brought another meal home for her.

“Michael. Go to sleep....” David growled, wrapping his arms around Michael's torso. The younger vampire sighed and closed his eyes. He hated how comfortable this position had become. Too comfortable.

“We'll take care of it tomorrow,” David yawned and smirked.

“Oh, can I watch?” Paul called out.

 

 


	11. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the Frogs have chores to do. Michael has a dream. Thorn has an issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A portion of this was inspired by some nightmares I had back in November after my grandmother's funeral. Obviously none of the intimate parts. But nothing is freakier than talking to or seeing someone in your dreams right after their funeral.

He could feel the rough press of towel fibers against his back, and water licking at his feet before drawing away and coming back again to repeat the process.

There was a warm yellow glow behind the darkness of his eyelids, as if he were being bathed in sunlight. Michael twitched, and sighed. There was a slender, soft body pressing into his side, nestling under his arm. The heat of a long mane of hair entwined in his hand. Hot from lying out in the sun the whole afternoon.

The sun? Suddenly, his dead heart shuddered to life and begin to hammer in his chest, and he opened his eyes wide in fear. And he awaited the burning pain of fire to engulf his body...

But none came. The body beside him merely shifted and sat up. Michael gazed into the soft eyes of the girl he had seen dead, and borne again into an empty shell...but she was not howling. Nor was her face drawn into a permanent vicious mask of grimacing teeth.

“Michael? Is there something wrong?” Star placed a hand under his chin and gently rubbed her thumb in circular motions.

“What? No...I'm fine...” He croaked, still unsure of what was happening. Maybe the whole year had merely been a nightmare, and it only felt real because he was half-awake. He awaited the relief that should follow, when awareness of reality would seep back in, and he'd remember waking up the day after the fight to head off to the beach with Star in tow. But it didn't come. He didn't remember doing that at all...he only remembered David.

“I was getting worried about you. You were crying in your sleep,” she moved the hand that held his chin and reached up to wipe away tears from his cheek. She drew back, her fingers smeared in blood.

“It's a waste of a good meal,” she remarked and placed her hand to her face, drawing her tongue across her fingers to lap up his tears.

“Star?” Michael began to panic anew, rushing to raise himself on his elbows...but she simply pushed him back to the ground. She still looked the same. Sweet and soulful. The very same vision he'd first seen on the boardwalk before she drew him into darkness against her own will.

“Why didn't you let me stay dead, Michael?” She asked, leaning down and nuzzling her head against his bare chest.

“Star...I couldn't...I didn't know _this_ would happen...” He struggled for the right words. An apology seemed pointless, given the circumstances.

“You're just like David, Michael. Only thinking of yourself, and no one else. The day you killed a man, everything that was good in you died. All that was left behind was what David made. You _are_ a monster. _You_ drove me to suicide...if you'd just let me go...I might have still been alive. If you'd just let me go even when I died, I'd be free. You trapped me, Michael. Please _let me go_ ,” she whispered against his chest.

He wrapped his arms tightly about her shoulders to keep her from rolling away. Slipping off and disappearing forever. She didn't know what she was asking him to do. She couldn't know.

“I'm not like him, Star. I love you!” He insisted, stubbornly, though his words sounded hollow even to his own ears. Did he really love her anymore? Or was he chasing the memory of what love felt like?

“You're one of us now. You have no heart to love with, Michael...” It wasn't Star speaking now, but David.

Michael looked up to see the blonde monster hovering above them, a blackish-red mass throbbing in one gory hand. Michael's beating heart. The sun behind him had faded into a red haze, painting the surf that still continued to lick at Michael's feet the color of blood.

Looking down at Star, all he could see was a ravening beast licking around the torn chest cavity that had once held the muscle.

The scream that tore itself from his lungs echoed well into the waking world, and there was an answering howl from a distance. The cry of Star, hungry, and irritated to be disturbed from her sleep...  
  


* * *

 

 

“Shit, Michael!” David exploded, shoving him away. Losing his balance, he was sent hurdling towards the floor below. He barely had enough time to recover, and came close to a very nasty collision.

Michael crouched on the ground, panting. He was shaken by the dream, more so than he should be. But then again, he hadn't had a dream in over a year. It was part and parcel with being dead. None of them could dream, that he knew of.

“Are you coming back to bed?” David hissed from above, irritable and grouchy. Michael gazed up at all of them, who were equally as upset to have their sleep disturbed. Should he tell them about it, or---...no. He'd keep the dream to himself. Preserve it like a treasure. Something told him that if David learned of his dream, he'd try to take it away, just like he took everything else.

“Sorry...I just forgot I was sleeping upside-down...” He called out weakly, rising to take his place on the perch again. It was a pathetic lie, but none of them were too terribly interested in what he had to say. David was the only one still awake, waiting to resume their position together.

Before he closed his eyes, Michael ran a hand along his chest, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no gaping hole...or at least...not anymore.

 

* * *

 

“Hey mom, seeing as Ed and Alan haven't been back in Santa Carla in so long, I was thinking we could go to the beach,” Sam peeked hopefully around his mother's bedroom door as she made her bed. Edgar and Alan were huddled behind him as emotional guilt back-up.

“After what you pulled last night?” Lucy snorted. “I don't think so. No, you're going to mow the lawn, vacuum, clean _both_ bathrooms...” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “...and tidy up Star's room. When she comes back, I want her to feel welcome.” Lucy proceeded to smooth the bottom of the bed comforter as she said this. There were probably a thousand meanings behind that last statement.

Sam pulled back and sighed.

“Sorry, guys. I tried my best. We'll just have to finish investigating later...”

“What do you mean 'later'? We're cleaning Star's room. Your brother's room. The same place you saw him last...” Edgar smirked. “There's probably a few clues in there...”

“After a year?!” Sam asked, incredulous. They just didn't give up!

“You ever heard of 'cold cases'?” Alan asked, crossing his arms, and looking for all the world like he was trying to intimidate rather than convince Sam that snooping in Star's room was a good idea.

“What are those?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Cases that got cold,” Edgar rasped, crossing his arms as well.

“Okay. Thanks for clearing that up. Listen, I'm going to mow the lawn. You guys can-”

“Clear the room. Got it,” Edgar spun on his heels and left, closely followed by Alan.

“Wait, hold on! If we're going through her stuff, I'm gonna keep an eye on you!” Sam rushed after them. He was oddly protective of Star. She'd lived with them a whole year, and she was a sweet girl. She deserved a _little_ privacy and respect. Knowing the Frogs, they'd tear the room up if he _wasn't_ keeping an eye on them. All in the name of misguided vampire hunting. He was really struggling to understand their trains of thought on this one.

 

* * *

 

Thorn paced the lobby anxiously, whining and scratching at the dirt in certain places.

“Did you take him out, Marko?” Paul asked, lounging on the couch and tucking a joint into his mouth. Even if it felt like the span of time between dying and being brought back to life was only a few minutes, he really felt like he had a lot of catching up to do with Mary Jane.

“Huh? He takes himself out, Paulie. He's a hellhound, for crying out loud,” Marko rolled his eyes as he hovered upside down on the cave ceiling, a pigeon nestled in his hands.

“Well there's gotta be something wrong with him,” David drawled, lazily pushing his wheelchair back and forth with one foot as he sat in it.

“He wants to go somewhere,” Dwayne supplied, turning a page in his copy of 'War and Peace.' Much like Paul, he felt he had a lot to catch up on. His drug of choice just so happened to be Tolstoy at the moment.

“Michael, take Thorn for a walk!” David shouted behind him. Michael was leaning against the wall tossing a baseball into the air when the command was issued. He rolled his eyes and flipped his maker the bird before patting his knee to get Thorn's attention.

“C'mon,” Michael called out to the dog, who happily dashed towards him...and then through a large hollow in one of the cave walls.

“ _Shit..._ ” He murmured under his breath and dropped the baseball so he could take after him. The passage was just wide enough for him to fit through, but it was still uncomfortable.

“What's that all about?” Marko wondered, letting the pigeon in his hands fly free and crawling across the roof to grab another. Each bird would receive his equal devoted attention.

“Probably smelled something,” Paul snickered. It wasn't really funny, but he was pretty stoned at this point.

“Could be something dangerous,” Dwayne added, looking up from his book. This gave them all a moment to pause. The silence was interrupted by a high-pitched laugh from Paul.

“Maybe we should follow them...” Marko hovered to the ground, one of his pigeons still tucked into his hands as he stroked it.

“They're fine. There's nothing dangerous here. Nothing dangerous to _us._ Thorn and Michael can take care of themselves,” David closed his eyes and continued to move his wheelchair back and forth.

Michael's scream and Thorn's vicious rang through the air at that moment, putting their relaxing evening to an end.

“Oh, right...there's Star...” Marko trailed off, a sly smile hovering on his lips.

“Oh, goody! I haven't seen her since she ran off with Mikey!” Paul clapped his hands and jerked up on the couch.

“...You don't _want_ to see her,” Marko laughed.

 


	12. Bickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can only maintain his self-denial for so long. David's temper is about to boil over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wonder if I've turned the Frogs and Sam into the three stooges. Then I remember how silly they were in the movie, and I realize...they already were. Also...Michael and Star are fountains of extreme angst.

"Ed...Alan...are you guys awake?" Sam lay on a cot beside his bed, looking up towards the mattress where he'd been forced to let his guests sleep while they were staying there. Lucy hadn't been too keen on letting Star's room out while she was gone, still confident she'd come back as soon as she felt like it.

His Rob Lowe poster smoldered at him from his closet door, and Sam frowned. He still hadn't taken it down, because he liked to pretend Mike was still coming home to laugh at the hilarious prank of putting it back in his room for the thousandth time. But...he really hated Rob Lowe.

"A soldier is always prepared to wake within a moment's notice, Sam," Edgar replied cryptically. Half of the things Edgar spouted tended to sound like that. It was like he was emulating Sam's grandpa, though a little less effectively. No one could take the tone in Edgar's voice seriously. Alan's snore chimed in with Edgar's remark, further dulling the power of the words.

"So...his jacket..." Sam trailed off.

"Yes. His jacket." Edgar agreed.

They were silent for a moment, save for Alan snorting a couple of times and shifting on the mattress. Michael's jacket had been the only 'clue' they'd been able to find...hanging in Star's closet and separated from all of her clothes as if it had it's own little corner shrine.

"That means he probably didn't leave of his own will, because he probably would have taken the jacket with him if he had," Edgar finally ground out, shoving his brother to get more mattress space. Alan groaned in his sleep and tugged on the blanket.

"So...David...or something...one of them must still be alive. And if they took Michael with them..." Sam didn't want to finish his thought. It was way too upsetting. Denial was a powerful protection charm, and he still wasn't sure he wanted to get rid of it.

"...Then he's probably one of them now," Edgar finished for him. He sounded as dismissive as ever of Sam's brother. Somehow it irked him, but he could understand where he was coming from. If Michael was a bloodsucker now, that meant he had to be staked...

Sam flinched at the thought and turned over on his side, sighing.

"Star and I went back to the cave when he disappeared...but we only went once..." he bit his bottom lip. "We were afraid we might actually find him there if we went back. And...neither of us wanted to believe he was 'dead'." He should have felt a sense of relief, finally stating those words aloud. The understood feeling between himself and Star for the last year that had pretty much kept Sam from really searching to try and find out about Michael's whereabouts. Leave it to the Frogs to finally drag it out of him, though.

"Well, we can't go back tonight. If they're there right now, we'd be the perfect snack. But that doesn't explain why they haven't come looking for us..." Edgar grunted, finally releasing the blanket so Alan could steal it completely. He was fine. He still had the sheet.

"You really think Michael would eat us? I mean...if he really _is_ a vampire?" Sam whispered, and that thought more than anything sent shivers down his spine. He still remembered the night Nanook had saved his life, though Mike hadn't really done anything to him. If he'd...if he'd become a real bloodsucker all over again, that meant he'd probably killed by now too. So...there probably wouldn't be any brotherly love left for Sam anymore, when it came down to grabbing a quick snack.

Edgar didn't reply. So Sam waited...and still nothing.

"Ed?"

"Oh, sorry. I shrugged. Thought you saw me," Edgar abruptly apologized.

"I can't even see you from down here, why would you think I could see you shrug?" Sam frowned.

"Well, you should have assumed I shrugged. I'm telling you I just shrugged, so take it from me. I shrugged."

"Okay. Whatever. You shrugged. I believe you." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Tomorrow we need to get unpacked. Alan and I brought some holy water and stakes just in case we needed them. Then we'll figure out a way to sneak into the cave during the day...we'll find any bloodsuckers hiding out there, and deal with them. Now, Sam, they might be deeper in than they used to be, and they probably know we're coming...practically shitting themselves in fear at this point, now that they know how dangerous we are..." Edgar rambled on, and Sam closed his eyes. There was no way they'd be able to sneak out a second time with grandpa's car. And frankly, with every muscle aching in his body from all the housework he'd had to do that day, he didn't even know if he really wanted to try. Because...if Mike really was a vampire...and didn't give a shit about him anymore...that idea was even more disturbing than having his throat torn out.

"And if nobody's in the cave, then maybe...just maybe...Michael forgot his jacket when he ran off. Who knows? It coulda had a lotta bad memories for him..." Sam mumbled, though there was little hint of hope in his tone. He knew he was fooling himself. The denial he'd been supporting and re-enforcing over the last year with bricks made of solid avoidance and excuses was finally crumbling.

* * *

Michael rubbed his head and sat up, shoving Thorn away. The dog had been huddled over him, sniffing at his jacket and shirt like a crazed beast. It made sense, considering that was pretty much the definition of a hellhound.

"Get away, Thorn," he squeezed his eyes tight and leaned forward on his knees, which he'd drawn up. The last thing he remembered was taking that stupid dog for a walk around the hotel, and then stumbling into a weird drop...and...smoke?

"Michael?" David appeared in front of him, followed closely by the others.

"Nothing. Tripped...fell...hit my head," Michael lied. A nagging voice inside him told him to keep the smoke a secret. Whatever it was, they didn't need to know about it. Hell, they'd probably mock him for being scared by a bit of condensed air.

"Nice one," Marko whistled, glancing over at Paul who stood beside him...and was still snickering, though he was trying his best to keep a hand over his mouth.

David gave Michael a piercing look, and he felt a jolt of pain shoot through his skull. The asshole was reading his thoughts! _Fine. I'll give you something to read..._

So Michael envisioned Care Bears and Olivia Newton John having a tea party with Big Bird.

David glared and stepped back, crossing his arms. "Fine, don't tell me. But I'll find out, sooner or later, Michael," he threatened.

"Find out what? That I hit my head? Shit, David, give me a break, you megalomaniac albino fuck!" Michael snapped, getting to his feet. Unfortunately, he went a little too far, but he wasn't terribly surprised when less than an instant after his retort, he was slammed back against a cave wall with a hand wrapped around his throat and suspending him a little over a foot in the air.

"You really don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?" David hissed, fangs descending and eyes glowing in his anger.

"Nope. But you know that by now, Davey," Marko slapped David's back and stepped away when he got an angry glare in response before David re-directed his anger back at Michael.

Dwayne glanced between the three, and then back at Paul, eyebrows raised. He didn't remember David's temper being quite this bad before. He wondered if gaining the head vampire status went to his head, or actually physically changed his mind...made him even more dominant than he was before. He'd have to interrogate Marko later when they had a little bit more privacy. As silly as Marko might have been most of the time, he was way more observant than he let on. If David really had changed, he'd know better than the rest of them.

"Go on, then, kill me! I'm tired of this shit, David!" Michael hissed back, though forming the words was difficult with the pressure of David's claws digging into his neck. By now Michael had transformed as well. He didn't know where all of this anger was coming from all of a sudden, but he was glad to have it. Maybe if he just pissed David off enough, the blonde bastard would lose his temper and end his misery. Then take care of Star too.

Paul threw an arm around Marko's shoulder and grinned, "you got any popcorn? This is getting good..."

Dwayne gave Paul a warning look, silencing the stoned vampire more effectively than words would have.

"I give you immortality, Michael. I give you a second chance. I give you my patience. I give you _everything,_ and _every night_ you fight me! _WHY?!"_ David demanded, for the first time resorting to actual words before action. Maybe he thought after the bonfire with the boys that he'd finally gotten through to his childe, broken the stupid rebellious streak that had nearly gotten them destroyed in the first place. Clearly, he was wrong.

"Because I _**HATE**_ you, David. I've hated you since the night I found out what you are. What you all are. What you made me into. You're tired of fighting me, but you know what? I'm tired of _you._ "

David stared at him in disbelief. It wasn't really what Michael said that surprised him. It was the fact that those were the last words Star had ever uttered to him, the _exact_ words, the night before she fled the cave with Michael and Laddie...what's more...for just a split second, he could swear he saw her eyes blinking back at him from Michael's face.

"Dun dun dun dun..." Marko crooned to the tune of a funeral march. "You aren't gonna walk straight for _weeks,_ Mikey!" He laughed, and Paul joined in with him. There wasn't too much energy in their laughter. At this point, they were just trying to diffuse the tension.

Dwayne crossed his arms and jumped slightly when a howl that didn't originate from Thorn echoed through the small chamber they were standing in.

"Oh, right...Star. Hey, why don't we go re-introduce you two while the lovebirds sort things out?" Marko reached forward to grab at the back of Dwayne's coat, which was highly ineffective. Dwayne slapped his hand away and spun around with a slight frown.

"Okay, okay...I get it. You can walk on your own..." Marko shrugged, backing out of the chamber with Dwayne and Paul following. _Good luck, Mikey..._ Marko shook his head, smirking.


	13. Betting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make a bet. Michael makes his bed. Lucy makes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I was a big fan of Greek myths growing up. Halfway through writing this, I realized I'd made parallels to the story of Orpheus and Eurydice without even realizing it. So the quote seemed appropriate. Also, there's sexy times in this chapter. You can just read the first part if you don't like sexy times, and assume David did what he usually does. Also...thought I was done posting for the day, but then decided to go ahead and write this other chapter after my nap.

 

" _Had I the lips of Orpheus and his melody_

_to charm the maiden daughter of Demeter and_

_her lord, and by my singing win you back from death,_

_I would have gone beneath the earth._

_I would have brought you back to life._ " - Admetus

* * *

Though she had the form and frame of a sex kitten, she looked a lot more like a rabid dog right then, crouched like she was at the bottom of the pit. Boredom, or whatever could be described as boredom for a creature with little reason beyond all-consuming hunger, had driven her to begin to tear and shred at her clothes, leaving her looking like some kind of strange cave witch with dripping fangs and glowing eyes.

"Whoa." Paul whistled.

"Yeah." Marko nodded.

"Whoa." Paul repeated.

"Yeah." Marko agreed.

"I think ten times is enough. If you aren't gonna say anything else, shut your traps," Dwayne sighed, leaning over the side of the cave pit with his arms crossed. So this was what Michael had done to Star?

"I gotta hand it to him. That's one wicked way to get revenge," Paul shook his head. He wasn't giggling anymore. The effects of the weed had worn off fairly quickly, thanks to his immortal constitution. Convenient for driving, not so much for keeping a steady high.

"He wasn't getting revenge, though, was he?" Dwayne shook his head. "No. He fucked up. Big difference." The darker-haired vampire concluded, hovering into the air and craning over to get a better glimpse of the Star-thing at the bottom.

"Is it weird that..." Paul looked away, a weird half-grin crossing his face, "...I think she's a little hotter like this?"

Marko glanced at him in surprise. "Didn't know you were into that kinda shit."

"What kinda shit?" Paul shoved Marko's shoulder.

"Bestiality," Marko snickered and flew back as Paul tried to throw a punch at him. Not the rage-filled sort Michael might have swung with, it was a more playful (albeit still painful) sort.

"It's technically not bestiality. She still has a human body," Dwayne reasoned, glancing back over at them with his upper lip curled into his own smile.

"Yeah, but not much brain function there. Does that mean she's the vampire equivalent of a vegetable?" Marko pondered, ducking under an arm as Paul tried to tackle him and swinging around to fly into the air and join Dwayne above the pit.

"I'd still take her for a spin," Paul waggled his eyebrows and stuck his tongue out as he gave them a horn symbol with his right hand.

"It took three of us to get her back here, and like eight pints of blood, Pauly. There's no way you're riding that wildcat!" Marko laughed, shaking his head.

"Wanna bet?" Paul joined them both above the pit and gave a flirtatious look down to the 'pack pet'. Star hissed up at them and dug into the cave wall, struggling to drag herself up and get at the blood she knew was nestled beneath their skin.

"Yeah, I'll take that bet," Dwayne glanced at him. "Easiest money I'll ever make."

"Okay! Done! The game is on boys, whoever nails her first-" Marko clapped his hands together and rubbed them.

"No...that's not the bet," Dwayne affirmed. Quite firmly.

"You're no fun, dude. Seriously, man," Paul sighed.

"I'd prefer not to have my dick ripped off, Paulie," Dwayne shook his head. "But you have a ball, by all means."

Marko looked at Dwayne with a twinkle in his eye and bit on the thumb of his glove. _He's gonna lose both of them, if he really tries it,_ he whispered in Dwayne's mind. They could both agree on that point.

* * *

"Thorn," David shoved the dog away as it growled at Michael. The hellhound was only reflecting his master's feelings, he reasoned, and earned a hell of a lot more credit in his book for it.

Reluctantly, Thorn padded from the chamber, though he paused more than once in the process.

"GO." David stated firmly, and the hellhound was finally gone.

"Now, Michael," David lowered his childe to the ground, though he still kept him pressed up against the cave wall with a hand at his neck.

"What's this really all about?" He asked, voice dripping with poisoned honey.

"I just told you what it's about, David. So go ahead and kill me, because I'm done. With everything. I'm done with you, I'm done with them, and I'm done with being _the thing_ you turned me into. I'm done." Michael replied, refusing to back down or let his gaze waver as he stared directly into David's eyes.

David's laughter echoed about the chamber, soft and taunting.

"You really think it's that easy? If I'd planned on letting you go, or even just killing you..." He loosened his hold on Michael's neck, dragging a single claw down to his shirt collar and ripping at the fabric there. Playing with it. "You'd have been dead the night I brought you home with me. So face it...you're with us forever. Bettor or worse. Till death do us part."

"...We're not married, asshole. The phrase doesn't apply," Michael growled, pressing himself as far against the cave wall as he could. Which wasn't very far, considering how hard the rock was already digging into his back.

David shrugged. "Whatever you say," he breathed and pressed his forehead up against the younger vampire's, inhaling his scent. "You remember the night at Hudson's bluff, Michael? When you slugged me? Something along the lines of...'just you'?" He asked, though they both knew the answer. How could Michael ever forget? That was when his nightmares officially began. The proverbial step across the threshold.

"Well, you got what you want. Just me. Be careful what you wish for," he grabbed Michael by the chin and forced his face to the side, effectively breaking their eye contact. Not that Michael could have held it much longer. He was already beginning to feel uncomfortable, the instinctual need to submit digging under his skin. God how he hated the way David forced these compulsions on him. Because he knew it wasn't natural. He'd figured that out a _long_ time ago.

There was the sharp sting of familiar pain in Michael's neck, but it went deeper than usual. Before he could even begin to struggle, his arms were pinned above his head, and David was yanking at the wound he'd created with a ravenous growl. He could feel his own blood dripping down his neck, staining the top of his shirt and his jacket.

"What..." He rasped, even as David continued to gleefully feed and draw from him, making the younger vampire weaker with each gulp of blood.

Hazily, a thought ran through his fading mind, and he wondered whether he really wanted David to kill him after all. Whether he really wanted David to let him go. And the little voice that was ever-present when he found himself unable to resist his master, unable to fight his animal impulses...the little voice spoke up. _I don't want to die..._

 _I win again, Michael,_ David purred in his mind, pulling back with a vicious smirk and licking at the wound on Michael's neck. He'd taken a lot...more than he normally did. But it was worth it to put the younger vampire in his place. It always was.

Michael was weaker now, unable to even try to push David away as he was stripped of his jacket and shirt. Only vaguely aware of cold lips pressing against his collar bone, a tongue darting out to lick up the stains of clotted blood along his neck and shoulder. All he could do was dig his fingers into David's hair and lean his head back.

David pulled away and shifted, shrugging his coat off and and lifting his shirt up over his head. Once, in the early days, their skin had contrasted. Tan against creamy white. Now that Michael had gone a year without the sun, there was hardly much of a difference between them. Much. David was still a pale fucker.

He was getting dizzy, perhaps from the loss of blood, or perhaps from the way his maker made him feel. Physically overwhelmed. So Michael took a deep breath, though he didn't need to breathe, and closed his eyes when they met in a deep, bruising kiss. Sneakily, he tried to nibble at David's bottom lip, to weasel back some of the blood that had been stolen from him, but the blonde pulled away and shook his head.

"No, Michael, no food for you tonight. You're going to have to learn your lesson the hard way."

Soon they were rolling on the dirty ground together, giving and taking kisses, while David bit at his skin, and Michael tried to nip back in frustration. It felt like that's all he was, really. Just frustrated, or angry, or upset. Never happy. Even in the throes of passion, or whatever you wanted to call what he had with David...he was never 'happy'.

By the time he was ready to do more than just cuddle, David was standing, and gave Michael a firm mental command to stay on his knees. _Where you belong._ Any opportunity he could take to humiliate or upset the younger vampire, he relished it. So Michael refused to react. He couldn't afford to lose any more blood that night.

"Are you hungry?" David asked, flashing his fangs at Michael. The younger vampire lazily nodded, though he scowled up at his maker with more than a little agitation. He knew what was about to happen. They'd played this game before.

"Keep asking, David, and I'm going to bite down on it this time..." Michael replied, squeezing his eyes shut to steady himself.

David flinched. Okay, maybe he'd taken just a little too much blood...but the boy was asking for it. Begging, practically.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me now, you've got a job to do!" David grabbed Michael's shoulders to hold him still. For a moment, he was a little concerned. If the boy couldn't even sit up straight, he probably wasn't going to be able to hang onto the perch when they went to rest either.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Michael snapped, trying to pry David's hands off of his shoulders, slurring a little.

"I don't give a shit if you're fine, Michael, I just want to make sure you finish what we started," David growled, lying through his teeth.

"Fuck y-" Michael's words were cut off when David firmly shoved his cock into his mouth. He was tired of waiting.

From there on, David just tilted his head back and enjoyed the ride. If he'd been paying attention, he might have noticed a change in Michael's eye color. But...he wasn't. So he didn't.

* * *

 

"What? Oh. I see. I'm so sorry to hear that, I had no idea! Why no, the boys didn't tell me. Yes. Of course. I'd be happy to. Are you sure? Really? Okay, I understand. No, it's no trouble. Sometimes these things happen. Sam would love to have them over for a few more weeks until school starts..." Lucy sighed, rubbing at her temples as she placed the phone on the hook.

" _Rehab?!_ " She mouthed the word with her hands on her hips, incredulous. She'd had no idea Edgar and Alan's parents had a drug problem. Really, they seemed like such nice people over the phone. But why hadn't they told her that was the reason they were coming to visit?

"Boys!" Lucy shouted, intending to get to the bottom of this. Coming to visit for one week was one thing, and she was just fine with that. But if they needed to stay longer, they really should have been more direct and honest with her. 'Protecting them from vampires' may have been believable in the sense that she knew they existed now, but they really shouldn't have kept this from her.

"Mom?" Sam skipped down the stairs and took a flying leap on the last three. He was quickly followed by Edgar and Alan, who appeared to have put grease paint streaks on their cheeks.

 _Oh dear..._ Lucy worried at her bottom lip, biting it. These poor kids really needed some decent therapy...

"Um..." She scratched at the back of her head, still keeping the other hand on her hip, and avoiding eye contact. "I think I was a little harsh on all of you yesterday. How would you like to go shopping with me?"


	14. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucy take the Frogs shopping. Michael naps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started writing this, then got distracted when I began to reminisce about a skydancer toy I used to have as a kid...wondered off on the internet for awhile...and finally remembered I still had a story to work on. Is this important information? No. Not really. Enjoy the chapter.

Lucy glanced up at her rear-view mirror to watch the Frog brothers shift uncomfortably in the backseat. It was her day off, and she felt they could all use a nice day of shopping together. Lord knew her youngest, and now...only child...though she hated to think of it like that...Sam loved to shop for new clothes. She never truly felt the lack of a daughter, for that one bonding experience she could share with him. Looking back ahead towards the road in front of her, she reached over to run her nails through Sam's hair and smooth his blonde curls.

"Mom...you don't have to do that, I brushed my hair already..." Sam pulled his head away and smirked at her. He wasn't really protesting, so much as embarrassed to have her preening over him in front of his friends.

"So, have you boys bought any clothes for school yet?" Lucy asked, smiling over her shoulder and quickly glancing back to the road when another car swerved a little too close for comfort.

"We don't see the need to stock up on 'civilian wardrobe'," Edgar replied, crossing his arms.

"Makes much more sense to be prepared for the enemy when you don't have to break in your clothes," Alan added, nodding in agreement.

"Ah...I see..." Lucy cleared her throat, a little concerned. She was really beginning to worry about these boys, now that she was beginning to get to know a little bit more about them.

"I'm sure your mother makes sure you have new shirts every summer, though, yes?" She asked hopefully. There wasn't a lot of money in her checking account at the moment, though things weren't as tight as they used to be...but if she had to, she'd make sure the Frog brothers went home in something other than camouflage or muscle shirts.

"We look after ourselves..." Alan shifted in his seat now, equally as uncomfortable-looking as Lucy felt. But Edgar's determined scowl did not change.

"The folks don't like to baby us, and we don't like to be babied. We're soldiers, Ms. Emerson." Edgar insisted.

_Oh my goodness, it's worse than I thought..._ now Lucy felt alarm bells going off in her head. If the rehab news wasn't bad enough...the fact that these boys apparently raised themselves? She couldn't even begin to imagine what on earth was wrong with their family.

"Mom, I need a new belt, y'know?" Sam interrupted, anxious to steer the conversation towards something that didn't border on therapy material.

"Why didn't you tell me before, sweety? I've got three belts I don't even use." Lucy sighed, pulling up beside the storefront of a small...but reasonably priced clothing boutique for men.

"Mom, I don't want a chick's belt!" Sam protested, pushing open the door once the engine was shut off. Edgar and Alan were quickly piled on top of each other in the struggle to climb out and stand behind him.

"Sam, belts are unisex." Lucy affirmed, shaking her head as she locked the car door behind her.

"You got it where girls shop, though!" Sam insisted, crossing his arms.

"Samuel Emerson, you are almost fifteen years old now, do _not_ make this into another tap shoes tantrum," Lucy sighed, running her fingers through her short hair as they all headed towards the entrance to the boutique.

"Tap shoes?" Edgar whispered into Alan's ear.

"...I used to wear them every day in second grade..." Sam quickly mumbled, quickly dismissing the topic and rushing through the door after Lucy pulled it open. He was headed straight for the new arrivals section.

Typical of any 'trendy' shop, for 'trendy' people, with 'trendy' things, and 'trendy' style...there were neon and pastel lights and zig-zag patterns spackled across all of the walls. Mannequins in tennis shorts with pink sweaters tied around their shoulders, posters advertising swatch watches and acid-washed denim jackets, and enough Hawaiian shirts to fill a gag-worthy tropical resort...they could almost smell the piña coladas. It was the stuff of the Frog brothers' fevered nightmares.

"What is this place?" Alan whispered, a little scared...but also a little intrigued by the acid-washed jackets. Not that he'd wear them, of course, but there was nothing with scientific curiosity. In the name of...something. He couldn't think of a good excuse.

"The church of the depraved, Alan. Sick individuals with nothing better to do than waste their money on clothes, instead of the important stuff. Like carving knives. And comic books..." Edgar growled, eyes widening slightly when he noted a guy walk by in a leather jacket with pierced ears. But the leather was brown, so he was likely human...wait...

"Alan, do you think all vampires wear leather?" He turned to his brother, a stoic look plastered on his face.

"Whaddya mean? They wear capes, too...I don't think those are leather...so, I guess they wear silk too. And denim...that shorty we nailed with the stake was wearing denim, I think..." Alan trailed off.

"Boys, what sizes do you wear?" Lucy approached the Frog brothers, interrupting their philosophical discussion on the textile preferences of the living dead.

"...Why do you ask?" Edgar frowned, stepping away from her nervously.

"Because, sillies, I'm trying to find something for you both to try on. Come on, it will be fun!" Lucy beamed, placing a hand on Alan's shoulder. Unfortunately, as hardcore and well-seasoned hunters as they liked to believe they were...there was no fighting with Lucy Emerson. Even Edgar had to admit he liked the short woman with her sweet smile. He could see why the four-eyed bloodsucker had wanted her for his own.

Sam snuck up behind his mother with several shirts and pairs of pants piled into his arms, smiling at her hopefully, his tongue tucked behind his front teeth.

"Hey, mom...my birthday is coming up pretty soon...soooo...I was thinking..."

Alan shook his head grimly. Sam would never be a proper hunter like them if he didn't learn to curb his civilian shopping habits. He smirked and crossed his arms, musing on the fact that he and his brother were much more self-controlled, seasoned, tough-

"Hey, Alan, do you think this would look good on me?"

Alan spun about to find Edgar pressing an aviator jacket to his front and examining the sleeve lengths. There were no words to describe his utter shock and disgust at his brother's behavior.

"I think that would look very nice on you, Edgar, but why don't you try on one of these pink pullovers I found? It gets so chilly on the boardwalk, and I think this would really bring out your eyes... and I think it would be very nice for us all to go to a concert tonight, provided I can make sure both of you boys are properly dressed..." Lucy held up the sweater in question, and Edgar looked... _almost_ interested. Momentarily, Alan wondered if a mind-altering slug had taken over his brother's body.

* * *

"How long does that make it?" Marko stood over the bed in the lobby, nudging at the unconscious body wrapped snugly beneath the moth-eaten blankets like he was cocooning himself.

"We woke up three hours ago. He should be up by now," David paced the lobby, restless.

"Get a little too feisty last night, Davey?" Paul crowed, walking about the edge of the fountain with his arms out to balance himself. Thorn snapped at his heels, causing him to tumble to the ground and scrape his back on the awkward metal chandelier in the center of the fountain in the process.

"Fuck!" He shouted, sitting up and rubbing where his jacket had been torn, and little beads of blood were forming along his spine. David grinned and winked at the hellhound.

"Nice one, Thorn," he rasped. A mentally-linked devil dog came in handy sometimes.

"Ease up, David, I just came back from the dead!" Paul stood up and pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lighting it up. Marko shoved into him and stole the cigarette before he could even put it to his lips.

Running about the lobby, puffing out breaths of smoke, Marko cackled while Paul followed close on his heels.

Dwayne stretched on the couch and set his book aside, laying one arm over the side and watching Michael lie motionless on the bed behind the veil of the shredded canopy. "You took too much blood, David," he spoke up for the first time that night.

"Yeah, I know. But fuck, he pissed me off," David shrugged, sitting down and pushing the canopy aside so he could watch Michael sleep. He was much less of a pain in the ass when he wasn't throwing tantrums and arguing. But he was also less fun.

Dwayne eyed the pack leader with an unreadable expression on his face. He hadn't talked to Marko about David's weird behavior yet, but he kind of didn't know if he really needed to. When Star was around, David had been a little possessive. A little controlling of her too...but nowhere near as quick to anger as he was now. Max hadn't been quick to anger when he was around, though...so it couldn't be the master vampire thing getting to him.

"Stop staring at me, Dwayne," David growled, though he didn't remove his eyes from Michael's face. If he didn't know better, he'd think his childe was dead, as still and pale as he looked. But they were all pretty much like that when they slept. Still...after their romp in the cave the night before, Michael had all but passed out. True to David's suspicions, he hadn't even been able to get him to sleep on their perch. So they'd slept nestled together on the lobby bed. But by all rights, he should have woken up by now.

Dwayne raised his eyebrows and shrugged, turning around so he could watch Marko and Paul. By now they'd tripped each other, and were wrestling on the cave floor. He smirked at the scene.

Paul hissed, suddenly growing irritated. "Give it back, Marko! That was my last cig!" He griped, reaching to yank the cigarette from his friend's mouth, only to have Marko somehow chomp down on his hand whilst still keeping it tucked firmly at the corner of his lips, smirking madly as the smoke rose into the air above them.

"Mayfk Mrh," Marko mumbled garbled words around Paul's flesh. For Paul's part, he howled and yanked his hand away, licking at the bleeding fang marks and pinning Marko to the ground with his other hand.

"Girls, girls...you're both pretty," David drawled, glancing back at the two who looked like they were either about to get into a real fight or quite the opposite.

"I'm hungry," Paul moaned, snatching his cigarette (at long last) from Marko's mouth and rolling off of him. The smaller vampire huffed, disappointed that their wrestling match had been cut short so quickly.

"Then let's get a bite to eat," David finally stood up from the bed. "If Michael wants to stay home and play sleeping beauty, we'll be just fine without him. Dwayne, you can take care of the doggy bag," he pointed at Thorn. As capable as the hellhound was at hunting on his own, they were a little too distant from the boardwalk for the beast to get a proper meal before he'd have to get back to the cave and guard them while they slept. They were better safe than sorry, given what had happened to Marko...and all of them, frankly, thanks to Michael's brother and his shitty little friends.

"Hm..." Dwayne replied, noncommittally. He was fairly agreeable when David gave orders. They all were. Even Marko, if he tended to bitch a little while he did it. Paul tried, but he was fairly incapable of carrying out tasks when they involved more than three steps. The only member of their group who ever seemed to put up a fight or argue was Michael. Maybe that was one of the reasons David was so obsessed with him.

Shrugging the thought away, David headed over to his throne-wheelchair and snatched up his coat to shrug it on.

"Well, let's go, boys," he grinned. Tonight, the Lost Boys would be together again on the boardwalk. The news would spread pretty soon. Hey, if Michael missed the 'celebration', it was his loss. And if he wasn't able to protect Sam, should the little twerp happen to run into the others without him present...David didn't much care. Hell, he'd only left the family alone for the last year because Paul and Dwayne would probably have a shit load more frustration to take out on them than he or Marko ever could.

"You should see Michael's little brother, now. He's grown up quite a lot in the past year...I'm sure he's _delicious_ , too. Dwayne, didn't he impale your ass on a stereo?" David raised his volume a bit louder at his last statement, strolling towards the entrance of the sunken hotel. He didn't even have to turn around to sense Michael's sudden movement on the bed. Smirking, David departed. He fucking knew that would work...

* * *

"Thanks for looking after Priscilla for me. She's a feisty little bitch. Needs all the attention she can get, dontcha babe?" Paul cooed as he stroked his bike before hopping into the seat. They were all gathered together on their motorcycles now, a pack united. Michael, for his part, was having trouble sitting up straight. He was like a toddler on Christmas eve, and looked just about as grumpy as one too.

"Lighten up, Mikey, aren't you the one who's always begging if you can go see your little baby bro?" Marko teased, revving up his engine.

For Michael's part, he was still having trouble shaking the feeling that someone was watching him, and didn't really have much to say. Not even a snappy retort. His silence unnerved both Marko and David more than any outburst might have.


	15. Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa stays home. Everyone else goes to the boardwalk.

The Lost Boys powered through sand and rock, salt clinging to their jackets and fog rushing around them like dragon's breath, cruising away from Hudson's Bluff and howling together, giving a siren call and warning to anyone near the boardwalk who thought they'd left Santa Carla permanently. Not that most of the locals had any idea what they were, but when you saw a gang of the same teens cruising the same places practically every night for over twenty years...and continuing to _be_ teenagers...for the more observant, it was a little unsettling.

"YEAH!" Marko shouted, shaking his mane of hair and laughing. The sound was carried away by the night air, as Dwayne overtook him on his bike. They competed together, racing, all five of them. The more distance Michael gained from the cave, the less 'watched' he felt. The less...scared. Was he scared? Maybe it was just the guilt of being too close to Star.

David always remained at the head of the pack, with Dwayne close on his tail.

It was strange, riding together with all of them. Feeling for a brief moment that there actually were a few good things about having a 'family' like them, though they didn't have the same warmth of his real relatives. Michael leaned forward, squinting in the fog, and wished (not for the first time) he could sneak home and see them again. Without David dragging him back to the cave, or Marko making veiled threats to tear Sam's throat out if he tried to talk to them and let them know he was 'okay'.

Thank _god_ Sammy's weird friends had left Santa Carla, though. He was pretty sure he could keep mom, Sam, and even grandpa safe from the boys...but if the Frogs were around, Michael didn't doubt there'd be a lot of blood on the beach...and even as he thought this, he didn't miss a gleeful look of mischief in Marko's eyes. The little fucker was reading his mind.

_Mind your own business,_ Michaelly mentally snapped at him.

_Your business is our business, Mikey..._ Paul teased in his mind. God damn it.

* * *

When the pack had roared off on their bikes, a woman's silhouette hovered at the entrance of the Sunken Hotel, barely visible to the human eye. The shadow slimmed down until it was merely a wisp, and slipped back inside the cave, there to wait. And plan.

Thorn glared at it, licking at his jaws. His eyes didn't leave the spot over the bed in the lobby, where the shadow seemed to nestle among the bundle of musty blankets.

And deeper within the confines of the hotel, her body sharpened grimy claws on the walls of it's earthen prison.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the concert with us, dad?" Lucy peeked into her father's workshop, smiling sweetly.

"Don't need no loud music to ruin my night, Luce. You go on with your boy. I've got to catch up on my tv guide anyways," he shrugged her away, turning around in his chair and lowering the peculiar looking-glass he wore on his face for finer detail work. The project of the week was a group of baby alligators crossing the Delaware. The Widow Johnson was running out of ideas for visits...and he wasn't about to push stuff into uncomfortable territory by actively visiting without a commissioned piece in mind. Even if they did have a little fun now and then anyway. The pretense kept the game fresh, and he was too old to be making active commitments outside stuffing rats and heavy petting.

"Do you want me to bring anything back for you? We're probably going to grab a burger or something afterwards...if anything is still open. I'm not really sure how long this concert thing is supposed to last," Lucy still hung at the door, pressing her father for conversation. Sometimes she worried he spent too much time working, even if it was 'great passion' as he liked to call it in his more enthusiastic moments.

"Luce, I'm fine. I got some cookies in the fridge...I can scrounge something up if I have to. I lived alone for years before you came back to Santa Carla, and I'm sure I can take care of myself for one night," he chuckled, the sound light and rasping.

"...Okay, I get it, I know you don't need me to baby you, dad. You're a grown man." Lucy threw up her hands and shook her head, crossing the threshold of the door to sneak up and give him a quick hug from behind. She was short enough that she really didn't have to bend over to do so.

He smirked, patting his hands on hers as they were wrapped around his stomach. "You have fun out there, and keep an eye on those boys Sam brought with him. Got a bad feeling about tonight..."

By the time Lucy had finally left, and pulling out of the driveway with Sam and the Frog brothers, Grandpa Emerson took a deep breath and let it out. Nanook padded into the room and placed his head on the old man's knee, gazing up at him in the soulful way only a loving pet can.

"Yeah, probably gonna have to tell them about that little mess you found outside, eh?" Grandpa Emerson looked down at the husky and scratched behind his ears. Nanook whined.

"Damn vampires coulda at least filled the hole back in," he sighed, looking back at his baby gator display. It was going to be a very. _Very._ Long. Week.

"Now you're gonna keep an eye on Sam, aintcha? Yeah. Course you are. You're a good boy...but stop trying to eat my oreos off the coffee table when you think I'm not looking!" He winked at Nanook, who pulled away and padded out of the room.

He shrugged and returned to his work, humming the tune to 'The Love Boat'. Tucked into the corner of his workroom, hiding beneath a tarp and a collection of squirrel guardians with large teeth and beaver's tails...a small television awaited him. There was a reason he didn't let Sam in very often. Grandpa Emerson had plenty of his own secrets to hide. His afternoon Love Boat tradition was only one of the many.

* * *

"That's Joan Jett." Edgar insisted.

"No, it's not. Her name's Jane Plane. They even said so when they presented her." Alan roughly shook his head.

"She looks like Joan Jett."

"She's a cover artist, she's supposed to look like Joan Jett. She's not Joan Jett."

"I think she is. This is some kinda cover, or something. I'm telling ya, that's Joan Jett."

Edgar and Alan bickered between each other, yelling above the music and cheering crowd as a short woman onstage cruised around singing and dancing. She was no Joan Jett, that was for sure.

"This is the kind of music you like, Sam?" Lucy asked her son, smiling and squinting up at the artist. She preferred Sinatra and Joni Mitchell, but she was _trying_ to be supportive. Every generation had their own kind of music.

"Not really, mom," Sam shook his head.

"Then why didn't you tell me before we came!" Lucy exclaimed, worried that he wasn't enjoying himself, and the thought was clearly written on her face.

"No, mom, I mean...I like it. I just wasn't expecting it?"

"I thought 'cover-palooza' sounded fun," Lucy sighed. "Did I make the wrong choice?"

Sam shook his head and smiled, leaning his head against her shoulder and listened to Jane Plane sing a cover of a cover song, 'Fun, Fun, Fun'.

"She's pretty hot," Edgar shouted, and Sam was more than a little concerned when he caught the gruffer Frog brother looking at his mom when he said it, and not the backside of Jane Plane, as she circled and crooned around her mic stand. They were going to have to have a serious talk later. Trying to convince him to kill his brother in order to save his immortal soul was one thing, but lusting after his mom was _not cool._

"Nah, she's too skinny. Needs bigger tits." Alan replied, and Sam was at least a little relieved to note he wasn't looking at Lucy too when he said it.

"Alan Frog! Language!" Lucy chided. She hadn't been paying attention to anything else they said, but the moment any of the boys said something inappropriate, she immediately noticed. It was like she'd adopted them.

* * *

"Ignore them, Molly, they're just a group of punks," a girl with a bright red perm and matching pumps whispered into her friend's ear as they marched by the boys on the boardwalk, who were leaning against their bikes. The game of the night was catcalling for Paul, with back-up vocals by Marko himself. Dwayne and David were mostly silent, but the amused little smirks on their faces made them just as bad as the others.

Michael, for his part, was a perfect gentleman. He may have been staring at their asses when those girls walked by, but he kept his mouth shut. In his mind, he was the model of chivalry. He'd had enough practice, too, so he knew just the right moment to look away if any of them suspected his roving eyes. He was pretty proud of himself, actually.

"The one with the brown hair is the worst. I don't care if he _does_ look like Jim Morrison. He's such a pig," the girl, Molly, hissed into her friend's ear as they gained more distance from the boys.

"I know! Acting like he's hot shit. I saw him looking at your ass, Molly," her friend whispered back. They didn't think he could hear...but they also didn't know about the super-hearing.

"Nice one, Mikey," Marko snickered.

"Smoooooth," Dwayne added, shaking his head.

_No wonder Star noticed you. Probably panting over her when you got your first eyeful, huh? Here I thought you were just making googoo eyes._ David added, mentally, stoking Michael's irritation.

Michael rolled his eyes and stepped away from his bike. "I'm gonna go for a walk," he told them as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and began to stroll away. He really needed a break from all of the...just...them. Always with him. Always bugging him. Always teasing. It was exhausting.

"Don't go too far, Michael!" David shouted, grinning. He didn't need to put any hint of malice or threat in his words. It was always there. Even when he wasn't saying anything at all.


	16. Cat Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael tries to get something to eat. Edgar and Alan get the 'talk'. Sam sees the boys.

"Sarah, do I have anything in my teeth? What about my hair? Is my hair okay? My butt...I don't have any string on it or anything, do I?" Molly smoothed her blonde pixie cut, polished pink nails catching on baby blue fibers as she shifted to straighten her sweater dress and adjust her pink vinyl belt. She was the perfect image of a barbie doll from valley land to match her red-headed friend.

"You look fine...what about me?" Sarah imitated Molly's grooming ritual, taking mincing steps in her pumps as she turned in a circle to get a well-formed opinion. It was more like an oval, actually, as they were still trying to navigate through the crowd without stopping.

Molly took a deep breath and smiled. "Good. You look good," she nodded, as they continued their journey down the boardwalk.

Sarah turned her head slightly before Molly poked her sharply in the ribs.

"Don't look at him! He'll think you're a floozy!" Molly hissed in her ear. They may have called him a pig in passing, when he was with the boys, but neither girl _really_ minded the attention when they'd realized he was following them. After all, he _did_ kind of look like Jim Morrison.

Stepping aside to avoid colliding with a tipsy tourist, Michael kept his eyes trained on them both. He was starving.

Idly, to keep himself from going too mad with the hunger gnawing at the pit of his stomach, he considered the parallels between this night and one long past. Of course, he was no longer a love-struck idiot trailing after a pretty, but mysterious face. But he was just as determined to catch these two, for...slightly different reasons.

The sickly sweet smell of cheap perfume and Diet Pepsi leaking from their pores assaulted his senses, but beneath it was a much more satisfying fragrance. Coppery, salty, warm, and delicious. Of course, it would probably be laced with hints of the 'low calorie' soda they apparently drank so liberally.

"Ohmygosh, those eyes..." Molly chanced a look back at him when they rounded a corner and huddled together beside a small jewelry stall.

"Molly!" Sarah gasped.

"What?" Moly winced as Sarah pinched her in the ribs.

"Who's the floozy now, huh?" Sarah asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the stall counter. Nearby, the salesgirl hovered with a small child on a stool, piercing her right ear while an anxious mother kept her eyes trained on them both.

"Well...he was looking at _my_ ass anyway, not yours," Molly snapped, though her snippy mood immediately melted when she heard a soft voice whisper in her ear behind her, the tickle of hair on her shoulder.

"It's a rip-off," Michael told her, pulling back with a half-smirk.

"W...What?" Molly spun about, taking a moment to regain her composure. She hadn't even seen him turn the corner. This guy was _fast._

"It's a rip-off, that's what you said? Right?" Sarah put a hand on her hip and gave Michael a look of her own. A strange cross between righteous indignation that they were being bothered, and yet...also a little bit of a welcoming flirtation.

"Yeah." Michael shrugged, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. He didn't really say much, but already Molly could envision herself riding off with this mysterious bad boy...he had a totally killer Marlon Brando 'Wild Ones' vibe right now. All he needed was the hat.

"What's a rip-off?" Molly slowly smiled, baking into her friend and crossing her arms. She just knew she had him on her line, all she had to do was play the part of an aloof vixen...and she'd reel him in. Sarah had the same idea, and not one to be outdone, poked at Molly's shoulder to get her to move aside just a little.

"Ear piercings. .if that's what you're here for...I can do it for you," he straightened his spine as he spoke, not directly making eye contact with either of them. Singling one of the girls out was pointless, as hungry as he was tonight. This game was already wearing thin, and the game was taking way more patience than usual. But he didn't want to share with the others tonight, so he had to do it.

"No thanks, we've already got piercings," Sarah tossed her hair and rolled her eyes.

"I don't see any earrings," Michael squinted, looking between both girls.

"You can have piercings in other places," and now it was Sarah's turn to smirk back at him. Leave him guessing.

"Yeah, but you _don't_ , Sarah. You just aren't wearing your earrings tonight," Molly nudged her friend, calling her out.

Sarah turned on her and gave her a very firm glare, and in turn received one. So she pinched Molly's elbow, and Molly proceeded to yank on her perm. Sarah shrieked, shoving her friend into the jewelry stall, knocking over a few bracelet displays in the process. The salesgirl quickly set her piercing gun aside and turned on the two, shouting out a line of expletives, to which the mother of the child she was piercing quickly covered her kid's ears. They were still tender, so the little girl began to wail, all the while Molly and Sarah had really begun to get into a fight on the boardwalk, while the salesgirl tried to push them away and avoid any more damage to her merchandise.

By the time all was said and done, broken bracelets were paid for, the mother was rushed away from the stall with a refund, and both girls had made up...Michael had blown the scene. He had a strict personal rule never to stick his fangs in crazy. No matter how hungry he was.

His stomach gave a weak mewl of protest, but he figured he could hang on for another hour if he had to. Last resort, he could always join the boys on whatever hunts they had planned tonight. Because they most certainly would have _something_ planned.

* * *

"Well, I think that was very...nice. Did you boys enjoy the show?" Lucy strode ahead of the group, hands firmly clasping at her clutch in front of her as she tried to find a lemonade stall in the crowd. She was parched.

"It was good, mom. Fun to get outta the house, too. It's like we're always in the house, and there's no MTV or anything fun to do, and I need to get more comics or something too, which I've been meaning to talk to you about..." Sam prepared to ramble, before Lucy gave him a sweet smile and ruffled his hair, effectively embarrassing and silencing the youngest Emerson all at once.

"Too many chicks," Alan shrugged. He could only handle so much estrogen at one time.

"On stage, or in the audience?" Sam looked at him curiously. Half of the performers had been dudes. In fact, the only women up there were solo acts.

"Just...everywhere. All over," Alan shook his head.

"Dude, that's kinda gay. Do you know how gay you sound right now? Really. Gay." Edgar shoved his brother's shoulder.

"Edgar, that's not a nice word," Lucy chided, with just a little bit of censure in her tone. He looked sheepishly down at his feet, cowed.

"Uh...sorry, Ms. Emerson..." He turned back to Alan. "That's retarded, Alan. You sound retarded."

"EDGAR!" Lucy sputtered, stopping and turning on her heels so she could give him a very stern look.

Sam snickered, covering his mouth with his hand. The Frogs had some serious foot-in-mouth disease. He had a bit of it himself, but at least he knew what words didn't fly around his mom. Multiple occasions of being greeted with an after-dinner soap aperitif had taught him a few things.

"We need to have a serious talk about appropriate and inappropriate words. Do you want to end up in prison some day? Because that's where language like that will get you. Prison. I'm trying to be patient, but I will not _put_ up with any more gutter talk under my roof. Do you understand?" Lucy demanded, almost surprising Sam with the firmness with which she was reprimanding them. But...mom had gotten a bit tougher since Mike left.

Lucy sighed, reaching into her clutch and passing a few dollars to her son, smiling sweetly at him. "Sam, will you go find us some lemonade? I have to have a serious talk with your friends, and I think it might be best if we had it alone," she explained.

Both Edgar and Alan exchanged a look with each other, and then Sam, and then each other again. Panic was clearly written on both of their faces. Sam just shrugged, grinned, and ran off before they could plead with him to stay. After the trouble they'd caused him this week, they deserved to have a bit of mom talk.

He was snickering madly to himself all the way down the boardwalk, imagining what she could be saying to them, gleeful that for _once_ he wasn't in trouble too. And he might have kept an evil grin plastered on his face for the rest of the night, all the way home, and possibly until the next morning...if the next thing he saw wasn't sobering enough to make him nearly piss himself.

There, at the very edge of the boardwalk, where wood met sand...five bikes and four bikers sat...and all of their eyes were trained on something not too far away from him. Sam took in a deep breath, and prepared to scream. That is, until someone came barreling into him and knocked him to the ground with the force of a bulldozer.

* * *

"Did you hear something?" Marko looked around, squinting. It sounded like a high-pitched shriek, but he couldn't tell what the source of it was.

David shrugged, pulling out a box of matches from his coat and striking one on the heel of his boot so he could light his cigarette. "Ya got me."

"Where'd Mikey go?" Paul stood up on his bike seat and craned his head, looking around.

"He was just over there a second ago," Marko pointed back at the direction they'd all been focused on.

"He'll turn up," David took a long pull of his cigarette.

"Give him five minutes, and I'll drag his ass back here if I have to," he added with a grin. Nobody doubted he would.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the un-initiated, 'The Wild Ones' is a 50s movie about the cleanest-cut 'bad boy' bikers in cinema history.


	17. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Michael re-unite. Paul tries to pick a meal. David gets ticked.

The fall had winded him, and Sam struggled to regain his breath beneath the body pinning him down. His heart hammered in his chest as he struggled to turn his head and look up at whoever had knocked him over.

"Mike?!" Sam squeaked, managing to finally gulp in some air. His missing brother pressed a hand to his mouth and winked.

"Keep it shut dork, or they'll see you. You're lucky it's crowded tonight," Michael rasped congenially, as if it were the most casual topic in the world, vampires stalking the boardwalk.

"Mfffhhhgn, hnggnn frnn!" Sam mumbled through Michael's hand.

"Let's go somewhere they won't see us, huh?" The older boy suggested, glancing around the throng they found themselves in. They were on the verge of being trampled, but he didn't want to risk standing up and making his little brother a bulls-eye. Especially not for Dwayne, who probably had a massive grudge right now, given their history together.

Sam didn't struggle as Michael pulled his hand away and gave him a shove, indicating that they needed to stay low with a quick gesture. So they stayed crouched on their heels, and gradually began to crawl through the crowd towards the nearest safe haven, a hot dog stand about thirty feet away. They got quite a few odd looks, but mostly from tourists. The locals had seen far stranger things than two teenage boys pretending they were babies.

As Sam crawled around and pressed his back to the side of the hot dog stall, he threw his head back and took a deep breath. Michael sat beside him and kept his eyes trained on his younger brother intently. It was kinda creepy.

"Mike, back off," Sam whispered, his voice quavering just a little. He'd seen the fifth bike over there. Even if it didn't look like Mike's, in the exact instant he'd seen it, he suspected his brother had just traded in his older one for a newer model. Because as far as he knew, there were only four members of that shit-sucking gang.

"Sorry," Michael shrugged, directing his gaze ahead of them at the entrance to a closed store-front.

When you have a million questions, and a hundred thousand worries, and about thirty reasons not to ask any of them...finding yourself at a loss for words isn't uncommon. So, for awhile, they just sat together without saying a word.

Michael was the first to break the silence, two minutes into their tight-lipped marathon.

"Yeah, I'm dead," he sighed. If he knew his motormouth of a brother, it was probably the first thing he'd want to ask. And he was right.

"...Mike...how?! Why are they back? _Did you kill somebody?!_ " It was the answer that launched a thousand questions, and maybe Michael might have regretted even telling him...but he didn't regret finally seeing his little brother. As impossible as it was going to be to pretend he hadn't. In fact, Michael was already fairly certain David knew exactly what he was doing right then and there. But could he really be blamed for running into Sam out of the blue? Surely trying to keep his brother away from the others was something he couldn't be blamed for.

"David didn't die. We brought them back. Yes, I've killed _loads_ of people," Michael sighed, and now it was his turn to throw his head back and lean against the hot dog stall.

Sam visibly paled, and he stared at his brother's face, studying it. He looked the same. But he also looked...different. He even sat different. Like all the tension in his shoulders was pulled in, as if at any instant he was ready to pounce at some unseen prey. He just hoped it wasn't him.

"So are...are..." Sam licked his lips, nervous. "...Are you gonna kill me?"

It was just then that Sam's life flashed before his eyes. Visions of organizing comics, sorting through his closet, taking Nanook for walks, stealing Michael's headphones when he wasn't looking, and a myriad of other things marched through his mind one-by-one, as he felt a sharp sting of pain in his neck. He squeezed his eyes closed and wailed-...then Michael stopped pinching him.

"Fucking dork," Michael snorted. "I'd have done it by now, wouldn't I, Sammy?" The reply almost sounded rehearsed. It frankly was. Michael had spent a lot of time thinking about what he'd tell his mom, his brother, and even his grandfather, if he was able to ever talk to them again. As hungry as he was, he did feel a little bit of surprise that he didn't have the urge to chow down on Sam's jugular right then and there, though. Maybe there really was some good left in him, still.

Sam rubbed at his neck, frowning. "You didn't have to pinch me so hard, dick-breath," he grumbled.

Michael's eyebrows shot up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means don't pinch me so hard!" Sam snapped back, falling into brotherly bickering as if they hadn't just spent a year apart with no idea whether they'd ever see each other again.

"Oh...yeah. Sorry, you deserved it," Michael turned away, coughing to clear his throat. For a split second, he thought...well, it didn't matter what he thought. Sam had no idea about his 'relationship' with David, he was just being a little snappy jackass.

"...Are you coming home, Mike?" Sam asked him, letting his hand drop into his lap as he said it.

"I can't, Sammy. I'm one of them now," he tossed his head in the direction of the Lost Boys.

Sam shook his head furiously, trying to maintain his cool. "I don't even...how could you...how could you _kill people, Mike?!"_ He sputtered, partially upset at his brother's response, and partially at the idea that his brother was a murderer.

Michael shrugged. He didn't have an answer for him. Not one he'd like, anyway.

"...Do you want me to stake you, Mike?" Sam whispered, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

"What?!"

"I mean...is that why you're here tonight? You want me to stake you? Save your soul? End your eternal damnation? All that bullshit?"

"...Tell you what, Sammy, if I ever try anything on you, mom, or gramps...go ahead. Until then, I don't even want to see you _touch_ a fucking piece of wood or holy water while I'm around, got it?" Michael wasn't threatening him, he was just being frank. No, he _didn't_ want to be a murderer. But he also didn't want to _be_ murdered, either. Maybe he might have wanted to be put out of his misery before he'd been fully turned, or even thought about offing himself when he was in his more dramatic moods, but at the moment...and especially after his last fight with David...he knew without a doubt that he wanted to _live_.

"Ed and Alan want me to kill you, Mike."

"Don't worry, David and the others kinda wanna kill you guys too. So we're even." Michael smirked and pulled Sam into a headlock, giving him a very firm noogie.

"Hey! Cut it out, shit-sucker!" Sam protested, trying to squirm out from his brother's grasp. He wanted to pretend it was Michael's inhuman vampiric strength that made the task impossible, but the fact of the matter was that he'd always been a muscle-bound asshole. At least _that_ didn't change.

By the time Sam had recovered, and was smoothing his hands through his hair, some of the tension they'd both been hanging on seemed to have finally eased. "Star's been lookin' for you, Mike. She ran off the other day, but, I mean...like...she's coming back. I know she is. Are you gonna come see her?" He looked at his brother, determination in his face. He'd negotiate whatever deal he could if it meant getting his asshole brother back home. With his real family. The one that didn't eat people.

Wordlessly, Michael pulled his brother in for a one-armed hug and sighed into his shoulder. And when Sam realized he wasn't about to take a bite out of his neck, or assault his hair again, he relaxed. He didn't get to see Michael's guilty expression at the mention of Star, but it was just as well. He didn't need to know the truth about _her_ too...

"We miss ya, Mike," Sam sighed.

" _Stay low, Sammy. We'll be gone in a few minutes,"_ Michael whispered in his brother's ear. And then, Sam was sitting alone in front of the hot dog cart. There was no sign his brother had ever been there.

* * *

They were silent, but they still exchanged enough animated expressions to indicate a conversation. Because they were speaking mentally. Anyone watching them would have thought the Lost Boys were either nuts, or impossibly comfortable with each other.

" _Eeny meeny miny moe_..." Paul moved his finger about the crowd, indicating one person after another while Marko gleefully kept two hands over his eyes to make the game a bit more democratic.

" _Fuck, Paul, just pick one already_!" David mentally exclaimed, jamming his cigarette in his mouth. Already he was beginning to regret letting the psycho of the group pick their quarry for the night.

" _I'm picking, I'm picking!_ " Paul laughed aloud as he thought this, mouth wide and grinning as he continued his stupid rhyme.

" _For someone who was bitching and moaning just half an hour ago about how hungry he was, you sure are taking your time_ ," David growled after he thought this.

" _Testy, aren't we_?" Dwayne glanced at the pack leader with a wry smirk on his face.

" _Don't mind Davey, he just got used to all the peace and quiet_ ," Marko snickered as Paul finally stopped moving his finger about the crowd.

"Okay. That one!" Paul crowed out loud, only to find himself pointing at Michael as the somewhat sullen brunette approached them.

"Shit...do over!" Paul grabbed Marko's hands to pull them back, only to have David punch him in the shoulder.

"You got your chance to pick, and you blew it. Now it's Dwayne's turn," Marko yanked his hands back and cackled. Paul gave him a playful shove, reaching out with his mouth to try and snap at Marko's fingers.

"Having fun?" Michael re-joined them, leaning against his bike and tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. He was a lot more relaxed than he'd been when they got to the boardwalk. Almost happy. David eyed him suspiciously, but remained silent. Michael's good moods were few and far between, so he'd enjoy it while it lasted. That didn't mean he wasn't going to find out later, though. He had a feeling that whatever Michael had just done...he probably wasn't going to like it.

" _I'm in the mood for groupies tonight,"_ Dwayne interrupted David's train of thought, and they all looked over at him.

"Sounds good to me!" Paul shouted, kicking his engine into gear.

" _You just get laid or something?"_ Marko mentally whispered to Michael, who just gave him a look of pure disgust as they rode off. _"What did she look like, eh, Mikey? Tall? Tiny? Fat? A short blonde with big tits?"_ Paul joined in, and Michael tried his best to keep his mind clear. These two practically fueled each other's dumbass chatter.

_"Inquiring minds want to know,"_ David interrupted, and for a moment Michael flinched. Sam used to say shit like that all the time...fuck. Okay, they didn't need to know he'd just talked to his little brother. If he could just keep his mind clear, everything would be fine. Don't think of Sammy. Don't think of Sammy. Don't think of-

" _FUCK, MICHAEL, SERIOUSLY?!"_ David's voice practically exploded in his head. Well, this was going to go well...

Shit. Shouldn't have thought of Sammy...

_"...So I was partially right...it was a short blonde, then?"_ Paul just couldn't keep his stupid comments to himself.


	18. Partying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys chow down. Sam tells a white lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was tempted to be evil and give Michael a male hooker named 'Lola' for his meal, but then I turned off The Kinks, and decided to give him a break. Kind of.

"Mom!" Sam shouted, waving his arms in the air. Lucy could barely hear him. She was sitting on a bench between a sheepish-looking Alan and Edgar, who both hung their heads.

"Now, why couldn't you just tell me the truth in the first place? Did you think I wouldn't let you come visit?" She asked, rubbing their backs in a comforting fashion.

"MOM!" Sam shouted again, shoving his way towards them.

Neither of the Frogs really knew what to say. They'd already finished their big joint speech about hunting and protecting Santa Carla from evil. She hadn't bought it.

"You don't have to tell me anything, okay? Let's just get through the next few weeks and see what happens, okay?" She smiled, and then directed her attention towards her manic son hopping towards them at breakneck speed.

"Sam, what's wrong?" She stood up, frowning as she took his hands in hers. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" By the look of him, it was like he'd seen a ghost.

"Mom!"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Mom!"

"...Sam, I'm right here...You've _got_ my attention, sweety. Breathe."

He shook his head, taking several deep breaths. Where did he begin? Did he tell her about Mike? About the bloodsuckers? The fact that Mike _was_ a bloodsucker now?

His eyes darted towards Alan and Edgar, who both looked at him as if he was nuts. Which was definitely interesting, considering it tended to be the reverse. _Shit._ They'd fry Mike for sure if they knew he was alive...dead...alive dead. Undead!

"Mom..." Sam took another deep breath for good measure, biting his bottom lip. "I gotta tell you something, and I don't want you to freak out or anything, okay?" He lowered his head, leveling her with a very serious expression.

Edgar and Alan stepped closer, leaning in. They didn't look like they were going to give him any space to break the news...so...shit...what the hell was he going to say?!

"Mom. I couldn't...find...any lemonade. There's no lemonade on the boardwalk, mom!" He exclaimed, almost excited at his own sudden flash of brilliance. He'd come _this_ close to spilling his guts.

"No lemonade?" Edgar asked, crossing his arms. Alan copied his gesture.

"Sounds serious," Alan sneered. Somehow, he suspected they didn't quite believe him...maybe he'd be able to avoid being in the room alone with them for the next couple of weeks. Somehow, Sam knew if they really drilled him, he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

"Beer?" Marko offered the girl on his arm, and she happily took it with just a little bit of a titter. All of the girls present had long reached the point of no return from drunk-land, wherein hangovers linger so near they could practically feel the raging headaches if they stopped drinking for too long.

It hadn't taken much coaxing from David to convince them to join his boys for a wild party in the cave. Normally he didn't bring food home, but with their little pet in a pit below, it was like a whole new world opened up to them. A world where they didn't have to leave home twice in one night in order to dispose of their leftovers, because they'd be easily taken care of. The Star-creature licked the bones of her victims so clean, they could be used for anatomy skeletons.

And with Thorn nestled on the fountain, eyes trained on David, he knew it would only take a simple gesture to send the hellhound on the attack, if one of their guests managed to somehow escape. Though the likelihood of that happening was laughable.

With the fires in the oil barrels cheerfully crackling, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Even Michael. Probably because the little Sam issue hadn't been properly addressed yet, but they had all night to deal with his little fuck-up. David offered a laced cigarette to his target, with a predatory smile. She happily took it and beamed at him through a haze of liquor and smoke. She was the only member of this little group of girls who'd never really been out for a night on the town. She was clean. So of course, David got first dibs on her.

"Gosh, this place is...it's..." She rolled her eyes and smiled, trying to figure out what to say without making herself look like she'd never been with a bad boy. "It's _really..._ dirty." She paused, squinting slightly. "I mean...in a good way. Good dirty. Y'know?" Placing the cigarette to her mouth, she tried to take a deep breath, and ended up hacking out puffs of smoke. Blanching, she straightened up on the steamer trunk she perched on beside his wheelchair, her legs crossed. With her stringy brown hair and red-rimmed eyes, she looked every bit the part of a mole-person who'd decided to dress in fishnets and rub herself down with eight layers of inexpertly applied make-up. And it was taking entirely too much effort on his part not to end the game then and there, and just laugh at what a fool she was making of herself.

"Jeeze, Cherry, quit while you're ahead," one of the girls called out. Dwayne's target. She wore just as much make-up, and half as much clothing as Cherry. She was currently straddling the stoic vampire's lap, running her fingers through his hair like he was some kind of horse. She was actively more fascinated with his mane than him. And she'd had way too much beer and weed, even compared to the rest of her friends. But Dwayne didn't seem to mind. He didn't obsessively groom his hair for nothing. Relaxing on the couch, he kept his eyes closed and smirked, just enjoying the ride.

Paul and Marko were necking the same chick. She was completely blitzed out of her mind, no thanks to a little help from Paul. Horny fucks looked like they were going to go to town on her then and there. David chuckled, glancing back at his own quarry and giving her a subtle wink, as if to say ' _yeah. I know. Dirty in a good way. So am I. Just come a little closer_.'

And she took the bait. Though she didn't take another puff of the cigarette as she handed it back to him and nervously sat down in his lap.

"This is nice," she whispered, looking down at her feet and blushing. Idly, he ran a hand up her arm and reached into the girl's mind. She was a _very_ good girl. She'd just made a _very_ poor choice tonight. Apparently she was growing more confident, because soon the girl was scooting back until she rested comfortably against his chest. Just close enough for him to get a good angle on her shoulder.

On the side of the fountain opposite from Thorne, and very pointedly facing away from David, Michael sat trapped between two girls he hadn't expected (nor wanted) to see again that night.

"I'm sorry about Sarah, she's such a bitch...that's why we were fighting earlier..." Molly slurred, pressing close to him and rubbing at his crotch. Michael gave her a reassuring and yet at the same time irritated smile, taking her hand and moving it to his knee.

"We didn't know you were in a _band._ Rockers are like...so totally... _ **cool**_..." Sarah edged even closer...which was saying a lot. He felt like he was melding and learning the true zen of being the main component in a sandwich. If they weren't completely nuts, he might have enjoyed it.

"So what do you play, anyway?" Molly tried to move her hand back to his crotch, only to be intercepted by Sarah. And then Sarah was intercepted by Michael. Now he felt like he was playing red hands. Of all the groupies they could've run into that night...Why these two crazy skanks?!

"So which of us do you like more?" Sarah cooed, giving her friend a vicious glare.

"Yeah, which of us do you think should leave...right now?" Molly growled, throwing the glare right back at her."

"Mmmmm, you're _so_ strong!" Sarah gushed, reaching under Michael's shirt (much to his dismay) and giving his nipple a good pinch. Apparently she thought it was a turn-on. He flinched, and pulled her arm away, patting her hand gently. Fuck, he couldn't wait to end this. Was David drawing it out on purpose?!

Paul cackled nearby, apparently having a lot of fun running a hand under the shirt of his and Marko's 'date'...but Michael was fairly certain the bastard was laughing at _him._

If it weren't for Star, Michael would have seriously considered skipping dinner tonight, as bipolar as these two chicks seemed to be. But...he wanted to make sure she got a good meal. It was the least he could do, after what he was putting her through. Somehow, he just couldn't quite wrap his mind around (or accept) the idea that she wasn't Star anymore.

Before he could continue to wax maudlin, a sudden shriek interrupted his private thoughts, and Michael jerked around to see David's girl still astride his lap, freaking the hell out when she realized her shirt was soaked with blood. The blonde vampire simply reclined in his wheelchair and kept his hands sealed firmly on her waist to keep her from pushing away. He could easily pull her back and end the screaming, but where was the fun in that?

"Please don't kill me! _I don't want to die!_ " The girl wept, turning around to meet David's gaze. Her mascara was already dripping down her face in great black dollops mixed with hints of purple.

"Cherry!" Dwayne's meal jumped to attention, only to find sharp nails digging into her neck as she was pulled back to Dwayne's chest, and he revealed a toothy smile to her before dragging the girl into a kiss. Blood dripped around their lips as he bit into her tongue. And much like she'd been combing her fingers through his hair before, he used his free hand to do the same to her, in a grim parody of comfort as the girl drifted off to sleep, and ultimately death.

Marko and Paul hadn't really been waiting for David. They'd just been nursing at their own prey for the last half hour, so she was thoroughly spent by the time the real massacre began.

Michael was only too happy to restrain one of his own victims, pinning her against the fountain with one hand, while he pulled the other one in and tore into her neck. He really didn't have any other option. At least her _blood_ didn't taste crazy...though there was a hint of something. Herpes? Ugh. He _hated_ when they had herpes.

As if she could smell the blood dripping to the ground, seeping into the earth at their feet as the boys drank, Star's howl echoed in the cave and just barely reached Michael's ears. It looks like they'd brought food home just in time.


	19. Playing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys play cards. Sam avoids the Frogs.

Red pumps stained with blood. Shredded nylons. Scraps of a cotton dress...and Star, huddled in the corner, clutching what used to be called a girl named 'Sarah' close to her breast, growling and tearing at flesh like a rabid dog. There wasn't really enough blood left to make any more of a mess.

Not far off in the pit, the remains of the other girls waited to be disposed of. And far above, the Lost Boys sat together on the ground in a circle, playing a round of bullshit while they listened to their feral pet munch away. The greatest challenge to any card game for the group wasn't really the lying part, but the temptation to read each other's minds. Even if Star couldn't really communicate with them in anything but outraged shrieks and howls, they all agreed she'd enjoy the company..if there was any 'Star' left in the thing in the pit, that is...

"Three sevens," Dwayne made his move, and shuffled through his hand to examine the remaining cards. There was almost a sense of amusement for the group, as pleasant (if somewhat foul-mouthed) as this little round of cards was, compared to their much bloodier game they'd been playing less than an hour ago.

"Bullshit!" Paul shouted, flicking the cards over with one finger and sending them flying at David's face. He pulled back and uncrossed his legs to kick at Paul's knee.

"Pick em up," Dwayne smirked, sweeping the cards into a pile and pushing them towards Paul. He scooped them up into one hand, without even bothering to flip most of them around the right way.

"You've got half the deck, Paulie," Marko rolled his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh.

"It's a strategy. If I get most of them, I know what all you assholes got without having to cheat," Paul insisted, grinning.

"Let me know how that works out for you," David remarked dryly as he laid down a couple of his own cards. "Two eights."

" _Bullshit_!" Paul hissed out slowly, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and smacking it loudly. David angrily leaned forward to snatch the cards back up.

"See? Strategy," Paul grinned and leaned back on his elbows a she fanned his face with his cards. Marko just shook his head, snickering as he bit onto the thumb of his glove and glanced down at his own cards.

Michael glared at his own hand, and tried to decide whether he could get away with slipping an extra three cards on his turn without anybody noticing. He chanced a quick look over at David, who gave him a reassuring (though still somewhat disturbing) smile. The bastard was thinking something, but they'd all made an agreement not to read each other's minds. Even if Michael really didn't know how to do it yet, he was dying to know what David was thinking. Was he in for another shitty night, when they were done playing cards? Was David going to give Dwayne free reign to go to town on his little brother?

"It's your turn. _Play your damn cards_ , Mikey," Marko poked him in the ribs and Michael shoved him away with a growl. Marko, of course, blew him a kiss in response.

"Gimme a second..." Michael squinted back at his hand. Maybe he could stretch the game out a bit, put off the inevitable...

Dwayne leaned close to glance over his shoulder. "Bullshit," Dwayne sighed, pressing a hand to his mouth and yawning.

"Son of a bitch..." Michael grumbled. They hadn't agreed not to look at each other's hands the normal way. But it was _implied!_ Momentarily he wondered if any of those stupid comics Sam had read about vampires mentioned the fact that they were asshole cheaters at card games.

By the time the game was over, even Paul was shocked that he'd won. No thanks to Marko lying every round just for the hell of it, even when he had the right cards. Of course, David secretly suspected they were both in league just to piss him off. And he wasn't too far off the mark. Dwayne had helped too.

"Told ya!" Paul bragged, snatching the cards from David's hand and tearing into them with his fangs.

"Paul!" David scolded, trying to yank the remains of the queen of hearts from his mouth, with little success. Paul only growled and backed away, crouching on all fours and shaking his head like a feral dog.

"What the hell are you doing?" Michael asked, his jaw dropping slightly at Paul's odd behavior. Not that anything the psycho did wasn't odd.

"Looks like he's trying to get his ass kicked," Dwayne remarked, smirking. Marko snickered and leaned into Dwayne's shoulder, shaking his head as they witnessed David tackle Paul to the ground and try to wrestle the remaining scrap of the poor queen of hearts from his jaws.

"Or something else," Michael shook his head in disgust, standing up to walk towards the pit and get a look at Star down below. By now she looked almost peaceful, now that she seemed to have gorged herself properly. Of course, the grimace still remained. The haunted eyes and twisted fangs looked like they were pretty much permanent. At the moment, she was only sluggishly gnawing on one of the bodies, tearing out bite-sized pieces of flesh every now and then with only slightly less voracity than usual. It still was nowhere near lady-like.

" _Are you in there? Do you even know what you're doing, Star?"_ He thought, urging her to somehow reach out and grasp at the words. To understand. To hear him. But she didn't even look up from her meal. She just...ate...and growled.

Suddenly, he was jerked to attention when a loud shriek pierced the air. Michael spun about to get an eyeful of David digging his teeth deep into Paul's neck. For some reason...it really pissed him off. And he really didn't _want_ to know why. But it was just as well, because as he watched them on the ground, Paul helplessly pinned...Thorne padded into the chamber, growling at something unseen. Afterwards, a peculiar numbness washed through his mind, and Michael looked back towards Star, dazed.

* * *

" _No,_ Samuel Emerson, I am _not_ letting you sleep in my bed tonight! You have _guests_!" Lucy scolded her son, standing in her doorway with her arms crossed as he gave her his most pathetic and pleading expression. Though he usually won out in the end when he pouted, she was putting her foot down this time.

"But mom...I'm afraid I'm gonna have bad dreams tonight..." Sam leaned down and pressed his head to Lucy's shoulder, plucking at her nightgown and sighing pathetically. It was far too dramatic to be believed.

"Well, sweety, you have your friends to protect you if anything bad happens," Lucy sighed, stepping back and closing the door.

Sam turned around and pressed his back to the door, groaning as he lowered his head. How the heck was he gonna get out of this without spilling his guts? He just _knew_ they were going to ask him a million questions. The silent exchanges of looks they'd been slinging around since they'd gotten back from the boardwalk had been more than enough to convince him of that.

So he had to come up with a plan. Maybe he could sleep in the living room? No...they'd probably come looking for him. Sam sighed, putting his head into his hands. What was he going to do?

"Damn it, Mike," he cursed. He was happy his brother was alive, but couldn't he have waited until the Frogs were gone to show up?

"Somethin' wrong?" A gravelly voice interrupted him from his thoughts, as his grandfather lumbered towards him wrapped in a plaid robe.

"Gramps, I thought you were with the widow tonight?"

The old man shrugged and shook his head. "Called it off tonight. Didn't finish my little project. Listen, you want some root beer?" He raised his eyebrows, nearly throwing Sam for a loop. Gramps _never_ let Sam close to his stash. The one in the fridge, or otherwise.

"Uh...yeah, I guess," he shrugged. He supposed whatever bonding ritual the old man seemed to have in mind was better than dealing with Ed and Alan right now.

"Well. C'mon then," Grandpa Emerson turned around and started heading towards the stairs. Sam watched him warily, and then glanced over at his bedroom door...then back towards the stairs. He took a deep breath, and began to walk. Maybe this was going to be another lecture about the car...

* * *

Edgar paced Sam's room, frustrated. He didn't even know what to say. Something had happened when he went to go get lemonade, and it damned sure wasn't the fact that there was no lemonade to be had!

Alan bounced on Sam's mattress, frowning. "This bed sucks," he remarked.

"Alan, we've got bigger problems than shitty beds right now!" Edgar rounded on him, frowning.

"Yeah? Like what? Lucy said it was cool if we stayed. She knows what's going on at home. I don't see-"

"SAM, Alan. SAM is our problem. He's holding out on us!" He paused, and in a quieter voice, added "...and call her Ms. Emerson, Alan. She deserves a bit of respect..."

"Oh. Well, yeah, that's bad too." Alan agreed, nodding quickly. Though he didn't say anything about Edgar correcting him. Clearly Ed had some kinda weird hang-up on Sam's mom, and it was a little too creepy to think about.

"It's gotta have something to do with the boardwalk," Edgar brilliantly deduced, crossing his arms and leaning up against the door-frame.

"So we just wait until he comes in here, and we ask him." Alan shrugged.

"I don't think he's gonna want to tell us...I got this feeling..." Edgar shook his head. "We're gonna have to weasel it out of him some other way..."

"...So...we're not even going to start with just talking it out, then?" Alan slung himself across the side of the bed and let his arms hang above him. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

Edgar cast an analytical eye about the room. "Now what are we gonna use to restrain him with?"

Alan sat up and frowned at his brother. "Ed, you really scare me sometimes." He paused. "What about window blind chords? Those should work, right?"


	20. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Grandpa bond. Paul has a headache. Dwayne is suspicious.

"Hey, snap out of it, dude!" Marko poked Michael in the shoulder, and nodded towards Paul and David who still lay on the ground together. By now Paul seemed to have calmed down a bit, but David didn't look like he was quite ready to remove his fangs just yet.

"I think there's something wrong with Paul," Marko whispered, crossing his arms. The humor of the little scuffle seemed to have completely evaporated, and neither he nor Dwayne were laughing anymore.

"Good for him," Michael rolled his eyes and snorted. Like he gave a shit. Wasn't like it mattered to _him_ who David stuck his fangs in. Or his dick for that matter. Better Paul than him, Michael told himself.

"Hrff shrrlfyy shmows hrs-" David mumbled through a mouthful of bloodied skin, before pausing to close his eyes and let out a snort. _"He usually knows his boundaries,"_ he spoke with his mind...realizing they wouldn't be able to understand his garbled mumbling.

Dwayne crossed the chamber and knelt beside David and Paul, gripping Paul's hair jerking his head up to gaze into his eyes. He frowned. _"Those aren't Paul's eyes,"_ his thought echoed in all of their minds. And then, surprisingly, Paul fell asleep.

"That's just like Paulie, finishing before anyone gets a chance to enjoy it," Marko smirked, breaking the mood.

* * *

Foam bubbled up around the cop of his glass, and Sam licked it up before it could spill over the brim.

"It's a crime to waste a good root beer that way," his grandfather sighed, shaking his head.

"C'mon, you _never_ add milk to your soda?" Sam asked, leaning back in his chair and licking his lips as he crossed his arms.

"No I don't. Like I said, Sam, it's a crime to waste a good root beer that way." The old man grabbed his own root beer and kept it firmly in his hand, in case his grandson got any funny ideas about doing the same thing to _his_ drink.

"So..." Sam uncrossed his arms and put a food against the table to push his chair and balance on the back legs before he got a warning glare and lowered himself back to the ground again. "...sorry...was there something you wanted to talk about, grandpa?" Maybe it was going to be something along the lines of the value of his own life versus the value of the priceless piece of machinery in the garage.

"I don't really want to talk to you about anything, Sam," his grandfather replied, taking a sip of his root beer and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. "But I'm sure you're gonna want me to talk about this, sooner or later. Keepin' my mouth shut last time didn't work out too well for any of us, eh?"

Sam lowered his head and tried to act as if he were suddenly fascinated with his pajama pants. "What're you talking about, grandpa?" He frowned, because the only 'last time' situation he could think of involved vampires. And Michael. And right now he didn't really want to think of either of those two things.

"Seen your brother around at all, lately?" The old man asked him bluntly, setting his bottle down on the kitchen table with a soft 'clink'.

Sam jerked up, frowning. "What? No. No. No, I didn't see him. I didn't see him at all. I didn't see Mike, grandpa, why are you asking all of these questions all of a sudden?"

"...Sam. I asked you _one_ thing."

"...Okay, yeah. I might have. Maybe..."

Grandpa Emerson just chuckled and shook his head. "Didn't know if you had or not, seeing as I can't read minds. You're a damned bad liar, Sam. If you'd said no once, I woulda believed you."

"...Are you gonna tell mom?" Sam nibbled on his bottom lip, even more terrified of what would happen if his mother found out about Mike than he was of the Frog brothers.

The old man shrugged and grabbed his root beer again. "I guess if he wanted to see her, he'd drop by, wouldn't he?"

They sat there quietly, for quite some time. A ticking wall clock near the stove was the only sound, for awhile. After about ten minutes, it started to drive Sam a little crazy. What was he supposed to do now, huh? What was gonna happen?

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed his glass of milk and root beer, chugging it until half of it was empty, and he was gasping for air with a foamy brown mustache on his upper lip.

"Are you gonna stake him, grandpa?" He asked quietly, rubbing at the mustache with his sleeve.

The old man shrugged. "He's family, ain't he?"

"...And...are you gonna tell mom?"

"It's not my place to say, Sam."

"...How the hell do you know all this shit?!"

"Watch your mouth, kid. I'm still your grandpa. Now go to bed." He paused. "...and I never wanna see you do that to a good root beer again, you hear me?"

Sam took another sip of his drink and stared at the old man, trying to figure out whether he was joking or not. And then they broke into smiles at the same time, and he had one of those funny moments where he thought he could almost understand his grandpa. Almost.

"Now, get your scrawny ass off to bed," the old man told him, hitching up the sash on his robe as he stood up from the table and downed the rest of his root beer.

* * *

Lucy sat her magazine on the bedside table and sighed, crossing her hands over her stomach. Maybe she should've let Sam sleep with her. Obviously something was bothering him. And Edgar and Alan didn't _need_ him in the room with them when they slept. All boys needed space once in awhile, after all. And she remembered what it was like being a teenager, having a friend visit longer than expected. It could be really stressful.

"...Maybe I should go talk to him..." She told herself, sliding off of her bed and straightening her nightgown. Little did she know of the two teenage boys awaiting whoever stepped through Sam's bedroom door...

* * *

"Fuuuuuuck...my heaaaaad!" Paul groaned, face-down on the couch in the lobby. They'd carried him there and unceremoniously dropped him, none of the group wanting to deal with him if he suddenly decided to wake up and go nuts again.

"You drink something funny, Paulie? Cyanide? Gasoline cocktail, maybe?" Marko leaned over the back of the couch, propping his chin on his hands and batting his eyes at Paul.

"What?" Paul blinked, rubbing his eyes and leaning up. He had a massive headache. It was kind of like the hangovers he used to have, when he actually had a heartbeat. It didn't compare to being bathed in holy water, or the excruciating pain of feeling his body and flesh actually rebuild itself from the inside out...but it still felt pretty shitty.

Dwayne leaned back on the fountain, picking at his nails with a switchblade, giving Paul a meaningful glance every so often before going back to his nails and blowing on them to dislodge a bit of dirt or crusted blood. He didn't say anything. But he didn't look completely at ease either.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?" David sat calmly at his wheelchair, arms propped on his knees as he leaned forward and glared at Paul. He was still a little ticked off by the cards, but something really fucking weird was going on, and he had a feeling it was somehow related to how weird Michael had been acting the night before.

Paul rubbed his eyes and flipped over onto his back, shifting on the lumpy cushions and sighing as he tried to get comfortable. There was something cutting into his back. He scowled and dug out a nail file, then glanced around the lobby. "Mikey, this yours?" He quirked an eyebrow.

Michael shrugged, sitting at the steps of the entryway and tossing a baseball in the air. "I'd rather not gouge my fingers when I'm filing my nails."

"Why do you even bother?" Marko called out. "They're just gonna grow back tomorrow night anyway."

Michael shrugged again and tossed his baseball a little higher. "Nothing better to do."

"I can think of something better to do," David turned towards Michael with a grin. Michael just looked right back at him and stopped tossing his baseball in the air.

"...I'd rather just file my nails." He paused. "Stop looking at me like that."

Dwayne glanced quietly at Thorne, who relaxed near David's feet. When Michael and David fought the night before, Thorne had been growling. When Paul started chowing down on playing cards, Thorne had been growling. He had a sneaking suspicion they all needed to pay a little more attention to their pack protector. Or something _bad_ was going to happen.

"The last thing I remember..." Paul stretched out, putting his hands behind his head. David jerked back towards him, breaking eye contact with Michael, who seemed more than relieved. "...kicking your ass at bullshit." He nodded. "Yep. Definitely. Kicking your ass. Then...I woke up and felt like shit. I think I'm missing something. What am I missing?" He frowned, not so sure he wanted to know.

"You started chowing down on the cards, lashed out at Davey...got pinned...that's about it," Marko explained, reaching down to poke at Paul's forehead. "Going a little crazy, Paulie? Trying to get into the mood to win your bet?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Bet?" Michael looked over at them, frowning. "What bet?"

"Bet? What bet?" Paul repeated, looking for all the world as if he had a dirty secret he enjoyed keeping to himself. Enjoyed a bit too much...

"Who said anything about a bet? Did you, Dwayne?" Marko looked over at Dwayne with a wink.

"I didn't say anything about a bet," Dwayne shook his head and chuckled, as he belied his suspicions about the dog and the weird act Paul had put on earlier...not to mention those eyes. "You, Paul?" He asked, closing his switchblade and slipping it into his jacket pocket.

"...No, I don't think so." Paul laughed, shrugging away an odd feeling that someone was watching him. Someone other than a slightly curious David, and a more than slightly irritated Michael.

" _You're gonna want in on this one,"_ Marko whispered in David's mind with a sly smirk.

" _Is Paul about to do something stupid?"_ David glanced over at Marko, slightly amused.

Michael looked back and forth between the two, then sighed and began tossing his baseball in the air again. They looked like they had some sort of private joke between them. He'd be better off if he didn't know about it.

"Hey, Michael, how about we go for a walk?" David suggested, standing up and casting a quick glance over at Paul. A strange look crossed his face, and Michael just knew they were talking about something.

"Do I have a choice?" He grumbled.

"Nope."


	21. Looming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Michael talk. Star's spirit is angry. The rest of the boys start the bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this whole 'shadow/spirit' thing isn't too confusing for you guys. I'm going to try and clarify it in the next few chapters.

Michael and David sat together at Hudson's bluff, dangling their feet over the cliff edge. They didn't talk much. And as much as Michael liked to entertain the idea that maybe David didn't give a shit anymore that he'd been talking to Sam earlier, he knew it was just wishful thinking.

"Why do you hate me, Michael?" David whispered in his ear, as he tucked a lock of Michael's hair behind it with one long claw, causing the younger vampire to jump. Startled.

"What kinda question is that?" Michael turned to him, glaring and batting David's hand away. But there wasn't as much fire behind his eyes as there normally might have been. He was tired. Too tired to play this game.

David snorted. "Just a question. Answer it." There was a hint of warning in his tone, which in Michael's mind only really served to illustrate a very good reason _why_ Michael was inclined to dislike him. Constant threats, implied or bluntly stated, didn't tend to foster good will.

Michael watched the water crash against the rocks below, and kicked his feet up when a spray of water coated the toes. He needed to get a new pair of shoes pretty soon. Maybe he'd trade these rotten sneakers for some decent boots...or maybe he'd just get more sneakers. It didn't really matter.

Why would David even ask him something like that, though? He had a million and one reasons to hate the bastard, routine rape sessions being one of the major ones. So what did he honestly expect Michael to say to him? Was he just looking for a reason to get pissed off, an excuse to be an asshole?

"I don't _hate_ you, David." Saying it aloud was almost a shock, even to himself. Michael was pretty sure he despised his maker. So why didn't he just say it?

"You said you did the other night." David raised his eyebrows, surprise etched on his face.

"Did I?" Now it was Michael's turn to be surprised. "I don't remember saying that."

David stared at him, incredulous. "You don't remember? Seriously?"

Michael frowned, thinking back to their most recent fight. He'd said a few things. There'd definitely been some bloodshed. Mostly his. Actually, only his. He looked back down at his shoes and desperately tried to recall every detail. Yes...yeah...he'd said something about hate. Wow. How could he forget?

"Okay, maybe sometimes I do hate you. Most of the time. Pretty much whenever you're talking or near me. We _kill people,_ David. You won't let me even have contact with my family. And believe it or not, I like to actively have a say in who, what, and when I'm going to fuck or get fucked." Michael ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head. This heart-to-heart thing was...weird. Maybe not as weird as sleeping in a cave with his toes around a rusty pipe used to be. But definitely close.

David remained quiet, watching him, while digging a pack of matches from his coat and pulling the cigarette out from behind his ear. "...What about where?"

"...What?"

"No, _where_." David smirked as he tucked his lit cigarette into his mouth. Already sporting that stupid smug look he had when he was about to do something to piss Michael off.

Michael snorted, and pulled his feet away from the edge of the cliff so he could stand. He picked at the grass on his pants and dusted off his rear, refusing to meet David's gaze. "Yeah, that too." He paused, and looked down at David with a suspicious scowl. "Are you going to do anything to Sam? Or are the others going to?" He knew he couldn't take David in a fight, experience had proven that several times over. But he'd be damned if he didn't try, if Sam or the rest of his family were in danger.

Smoke mingled with the fog and salt air around them, blending in until it disappeared entirely. David's laughter echoed around them, leaving Michael's question unanswered.

"If you do try anything with them, David, I will definitely kill you. It may take me a decade if it has to, but the minute I get a chance...I'll take you all out," Michael growled, turning on his heel and heading towards his bike. He wasn't really too surprised that he didn't make it very far before he was tackled to the ground.

"Is that right?" David purred in his ear, nipping at it and causing an involuntary shudder to run down Michael's spine. God how he missed when he only got feelings like this around chicks. At least only _David_ could pull this shit on him, or he might not have managed to survive this long. One maniacal bloodsucking asshole dominating him on an almost nightly basis was enough. He'd have staked himself if Marko could've done it too.

They struggled a bit on the ground until Michael managed to at least position himself so his back was pressed up against the sand and patches of grass, and he was facing David above him. There was none of the oppressive air between them that had made their last fight as intense as it had been. Michael only glared up at him, a little irritated, expectant.

"Are you trying to keep me out here for a reason?" He demanded. There was obviously something going on, beyond the heart-to-heart bullshit they'd just exchanged. If David was really mad at him for some imaginary slight, or even upset about him talking to his brother, he'd have done something about it by now.

"What makes you think that?" David asked, distracted as he tried to pluck at Michael's jacket and shove it down on his shoulders.

* * *

The shadow watched the Lost Boys in the cave, whispering and hissing among each other. She was frustrated. At first, it had been easy jumping into them, but she'd struggled to remain inside Paul's body for too long. She needed to wait until they slept, so she could gather more energy. It wasn't something she knew from experience, but just a nagging feeling. An instinct. Slipping inside Michael's mind had been natural enough, playing on his guilt and the lingering feelings of 'love' he'd professed to have for her in his dreams.

This thing. This shadow. She wasn't Star anymore. She was the last remaining scrap of Star, the anger and the bitterness. The only part that _could_ remain, attached to the living world by an invisible chord to the shell of her former self that dwelt in the pit below. And she wasn't going to be free until she dealt with every last one of them.

* * *

"So we got about thirty minutes before they come back and we have to turn in. That leaves you with maybe...twenty minutes to get your groove on with the sex kitten, Paulie. Think you can manage?" Marko crossed his arms and smirked as he leaned against the cave wall.

"I only need five," Paul held up a hand to illustrate his point, a goofy grin on his face.

"You only need _two_ ," Dwayne interrupted from his position at the fountain, dodging a pillow aimed in his direction.

"C'mon, Dwayne. That's not fair. I saw him go a whole three when we had those twins on the beach," Marko snickered, gesturing with his hands on his chest as a reminder of just how impressive the girls' endowments were.

"Shut up!" Paul snapped, standing up from the couch and straightening his jacket as he rotated his head from side to side and popped his back. "You know what? I'm gonna make it ten. You just watch. I'm gonna teach her how to scream my name!" He insisted, confidently marching out of the lobby with long strides.

Marko pushed himself away from the wall, crossing towards the fountain and keeping his arms crossed in front of him.

"Somethin' wrong?" He leaned forward and tilted his head.

"Hm?" Dwayne looked up at Marko as he shifted on the fountain and got to his feet.

"You've got that 'I'm thinking about some crazy shit and gonna keep my mouth shut until something happens' look on your face. So c'mon, man. Spill," Marko poked Dwayne in the chest.

Dwayne shook his head and passed Marko to go after Paul. "I got a theory...but I'm gonna wait on it," he shrugged.

Marko threw his hands in the air, shaking his head. "Alright, but if you get your ass fried on a stereo again, don't come crying to me!"

A loud shriek followed by a string of expletives, and then insane laughter interrupted their little conversation, and Marko shoved past Dwayne, scrambling out of the lobby. "Don't start without us, Paulie!" He shouted, hair flying behind him as he chuckled.

Slowing to a stop, Dwayne watched Marko disappear through a curtain that separated the lobby from a small corridor, and spun around. He could swear he saw a shadow flitting into the bed...the moth-eaten canopy was even shifting as if it had just been lowered. He frowned, and turned back to follow Marko. If Thorn wasn't growling, he didn't have anything to worry about just yet.

* * *

" _That was...different,"_ Michael remarked mentally, as they drove their bikes back towards the cave. He had an amused smirk plastered on his face to contrast with David's moody scowl. Quite the reverse of their usual moods together.

" _Shut up. Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean I'm not a man. It happens to everyone!"_ David's snippy reply.

Michael laughed, speeding up and passing David. "Not me. You must be getting old!" He taunted...though he'd probably regret that remark later. Just knowing Sammy was probably safe for now was enough to keep him happy.

And as mad as David tried to be...it really was nice once in awhile to see Michael smile.


	22. Taunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys taunt David. The Frogs and Sam get punished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too many euphemisms?! I say not enough! And also, I apologize in no way for Edgar's creepy thoughts. No regrets! -evil laughter-

Paul whimpered as Marko and Dwayne drug him from the chamber where Star's pit lay. He looked like shit. Chunks of hair torn from his scalp, scratches from head to torso oozing blood, a cracked tooth...but his favorite parts were still intact, so he wasn't ready to throw the towel in yet. In fact, the way he saw it...he was just about to get his second wind.

"C'mon, man...I almost got her warmed up!" He protested, trying to pull his shoulders from Marko and Dwayne's grasps. But they were a little stronger than him at the moment, despite the fact that they'd gotten a bit scratched up in the process of saving Paul from himself.

"You're nuts, Paulie," Marko shook his head, highly amused by this whole situation. This was the easiest bet he'd ever won.

"Look, she just needs a bit more alone time with little Paulie, and I'm telling ya, she'll be singing my name!" Paul insisted, trying to dig his heels into the dirt.

"No," Dwayne said simply ending that argument. Paul narrowed his eyes into slits and glared back and forth between the two. "I'm not losing this bet. I'm. _Not_."

"Shit, look at yourself, Paulie! Another minute in there, and we'd be calling you Pauline!" Marko exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

"It _does_ have a nice ring to it, though," Dwayne conceded, and Paul growled at him in irritation.

When they reached the lobby, Michael and David were already there, apparently in a heated discussion with each other. They weren't speaking aloud, but they also weren't looking at any of the others. Michael sat on the fountain, smirking, hand propped up under his chin, and David glared at him from his wheelchair. Their eyes were fixed on each other's intently. Dwayne could only imagine what they must be 'talking about'. Either way, it probably wasn't going to turn out too well for Mike if he didn't back off soon.

Michael jerked up, noticing the others as Dwayne and Marko deposited Paul on the couch. He quirked his eyebrows at the sight, "man...you look like shit."

"Thanks," Paul replied dryly.

"No, I really mean it. You're like...have you ever seen an American Werewolf in London? Yeah, you look worse than that guy. Like him...but also like you rolled around in a pile of-"

"Mikey!" Marko guffawed, leaning forward on his knees to try and catch his breath.

Paul groaned and buried his face into a pillow. He may have been all talk before, but there were a few unmentionable places Star did manage to take a few chunks out of, and they were just now beginning to hurt as the healing process set into motion.

"You're back soon," Marko observed, finally regaining his breath as he flopped down beside Paul and shoved the other's booted feet out of the way so he could get more comfortable.

Michael shrugged, glancing over at David, who still looked pretty sour. "Yeah. I guess we did _come home_ pretty quickly. I hope that isn't a _disappointment._ Wouldn't want to _let you dow-"_

Just then, David finally snapped and lunged at Michael, jerking him off of the side of the fountain and pinning him to the ground with his arms against his back. Michael coughed, winded, but not entirely surprised. He knew better than to struggle right now, as much as they'd managed to wind David up as a group. He was pushing his luck...but it was worth it, just to piss David off.

"Oh, Davey _finished the rac_ e early, huh?" Paul rolled his face away from the pillow and smirked, though a little too distracted by his injuries to break out into a full-blown cackle. He was glad they weren't talking about how shitty he looked anymore.

" _Forgot to raise the flag for the morning salute?" _Marko added mentally, batting his eyes when David gave them both a venomous glare, though he still firmly kept Michael pinned to the ground. The younger vampire was far too amused to let it bother him too much.

" _Couldn't pitch his tent for his camping trip, huh?"_ Dwayne shamelessly joined in, crossing his arms as he sat on the side of the couch. He wasn't afraid of David.

"I'm going to kick all of your asses," David stated calmly. None of them doubted it.

" _So...anybody gonna explain what happened to Paul?"_ Michael thought, partially trying to distract David enough to wriggle out from under him (unsuccessfully), and partially because he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. Horny bastard.

* * *

Lucy stirred her coffee slowly, easing back into her wicker chair beside the window of the wraparound porch and smiled out at the sun. It was bright this morning. Nice. She took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes, letting the light wash over her face. A sudden creak interrupted her morning ritual, and she frowned, not opening her eyes.

"Did I say you could move?" She asked, pressing her arms around her coffee cup to let the warmth of it seep into her skin. Standing against the wall, Edgar and Alan sheepishly pressed their noses back into the wood. They'd been standing like this for twenty minutes, and still had twenty minutes to go.

"This is all your fault," Alan whispered to his brother.

"You're the one who thought the baseball bat was a good idea!" Edgar hissed back, indignant.

"...Well, I thought she was Sam..."

"So did I!" Edgar paused. "...This is all his fault. Blonde dork is holding out on us! Something happened on the boardwalk last night, and he's keeping it to himself! We saved his life, and this is how he treats-"

"No talking!" Lucy intoned, taking another sip of coffee. She hadn't been badly hurt, but she'd been startled enough last night when Edgar had tackled her to the ground and Alan tried to swing a baseball bat in her face, expecting to find Sam instead of Lucy Emerson entering the room. Good lord, what could they honestly want to attack her son like that for? It was absolutely insane! Privately, she blamed their parents. No wonder Sam had wanted to sleep in her bed with her last night.

"Uh...Ms. Emerson?" Edgar asked, as meekly as he could manage. It sounded odd, with the general gruffness of his speaking voice.

"What is it, Edgar?" Lucy kept her eyes closed and snuggled into her chair, pulling at her knit blanket slightly so she could cover her knees properly.

"...We're sorry." He had trouble actually saying the words. They didn't come natural. But he really meant it. He'd never hurt Lucy on purpose in a million years. In the few short days he and Alan had been there, it was like...it was like she was some kind of angel. And that _ass!_ Edgar had no idea how amazing a mature woman could look, in the right light, until now.

"Yeah. Sorry." Alan added. Though not as convincingly. He was still giving his brother poisonous 'I blame you' glances every ten seconds. They were practically grown men, and this was how they were treated? It was ridiculous! He felt so stupid. They came back to Santa Carla to fight vampires, to save the city, to defend American justice...or whatever Edgar's speech was about...and here they were with their noses pressed against the wall like a couple of wayward toddlers. All because Sam decided to stay up late and let his mom take the heat for his interrogation session.

"That's nice. After this, maybe you can apologize to Sam for scaring him half to death last night. You know I found him outside my bedroom door at 2 AM, because he was afraid you boys were going to do exactly what you tried pulling on me?" She took another sip of coffee and placed her cup down on a side table so she could lean forward and turn around to look at the Frog brothers.

"I don't even understand...why on earth would you do that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Sam nibbled at his bottom lip, listening from the screen door, taking a sip of his orange juice and wondering whether or not he should help the Frogs get out easy. Even if they apparently had been planning to attack him, like he'd suspected, it wasn't like he wanted them to...suffer? Not to mention, they'd only be madder at him later, if he didn't do something to get them out of this. But...then again...it was _really funny_ to watch this. As tough as they always acted, he was struggling to contain a snicker. In fact, it slipped out despite his best efforts.

"Sam," Lucy called her son's name, forcing him to open the screen door and meet her gaze.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Since you think it's so funny to watch your friends, why don't you join them in time-out?" She asked him, picking up her coffee once more.

"...But I didn't do anything! And...I'm almost fifteen!" Sam protested.

Lucy just shook her head and indicated a free spot at the wall on the side of the house. "Maybe next time you won't make fun of others, and especially when they're your friends? Hm?" She pressed her cup to her mouth with a slight smile. She wasn't going to let him out of this.

"Mom!"

"Sam."

" _Mom_.

" _ **Sam**_!"

"Mooooooom..."

"MARCH!"

Sam gave a loud sigh, and a partial whine of protest...and reluctantly headed towards the place at the wall she'd pointed out to him, right between the two Frog brothers. Both of them looked in a much better mood, now that they had another cellmate in their porch corner prison. Mom used to be a lot less tough before Michael left.

Edgar glanced at Sam, a half-smirk on his face, and he pointed two fingers at his eyes, then one right at Sam. It was a promise. He didn't even need to look at Alan to know the other Frog would just imitated it. He was always following Ed's lead. And once again, Sam wondered why he was still friends with these nutcases.

"When your time is up together, I want you to sit down and talk out whatever it is that made you decide to attack me last night. _Then,_ you can mow the front and back yard. _Then_ you can give Nanook a bath. _And then..._ " Lucy informed them a list of further chores she expected to be done that day, all the while enjoying her coffee.

Sam was glad they weren't going to move in. If they kept this up, he'd be doing enough stuff around the house to put 'professional housekeeper' on his college resume.

* * *

That night, Marko dreamt. And it wasn't pleasant...


	23. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marko dreams. Sam and the Frogs work. Dwayne runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever seen Bedknobs and Broomsticks? Partially inspired this dream sequence, I think.

The birds were roosting together in the lobby, huddled as if terrified of something lurking there. Marko tore into the room, hovering towards them to inspect his little pets. They didn't normally act like this. He'd gone through several generations of pigeons and doves by now, breeding, training...by now, they generally sought his company whenever he made his appearance in the early evenings before heading out with the boys.

"Gravedirt? Zombie? Patricia?" Marko reached for his three favorites, and they immediately recoiled at his touch, flying down and out of the entrance to the cave, maybe never to be seen again.

"... _the fuck..."_ He mouthed the words, confused.

"They're afraid of you, Marko," an all too familiar voice called out from below. His eyebrows shot up considerably, and he descended to the ground to spin around and find himself face to face with none other than Star. And she looked normal. Absolutely fine.

"What're you doing out of your playroom, angel face?" He asked, smoothing out his expression and taking on a playful smile. Marko, and all of the Lost Boys, were rarely...if ever...scared.

"You mean my prison?" Star frowned, stepping even closer to him and pressing a hand to Marko's chest, looking down to examine and pluck at the lapels of his jacket. "I wanted to stretch my legs..."

She tossed her hair back and let her frown melt into a flirtatious smile, quite unlike anything she'd ever shown him before. Not that he minded. Tits were tits, no matter the source.

"Don't you like to stretch, Marko?" Star bit at her bottom lip, licking it after she asked him.

He rubbed at his eyes and laughed, "Shit, Paul...what did you put in that weed?" he half-expected Star to disappear at any moment if he just rubbed his eyes hard enough.

"Hey, pay attention to me!" Star feigned a pout, and pulled her hand away, stepping back from him to reach towards the thin straps of her cotton tank top and slide them down.

Marko's lips twitched. Who gave a fuck why she was talking now? Their little Lost Girl was finally learning to have a bit of fun! And all it took was a couple of days as a ravenous monster in a subterranean hotel. Who knew? Maybe that's why Michael liked her so much. She had a kinky side she'd never showed the rest of them before...

After Star peeled her shirt down and stepped out of it, along with her skirt, she reached out to pull him back with her towards the couch in the lobby. "Don't tell David or Michael about this, okay? It will be our little secret..." She whispered, pulling him in close for a kiss. Marko nodded, grinning and taking her bottom lip into his to nibble on it. _Finally_ , he was getting some action!

They fell to the couch in a tangle of limbs and fabric, Marko desperately struggling to remove his prized jacket so he could get a little bit more comfortable. He felt a hand pull the last sleeve off for him, and thanked it. That's when the hand crawled up his arm and leaped onto Star's chest.

"...Wh..." Marko stared at it. Dwayne's dismembered, charred arm was crawling downwards to get in on the fun.

"Hey! C'mon, Dwayne!" He snapped, grabbing the arm and trying to toss it across the room, only to feel it latch onto his neck and start to squeeze. This was _just_ like Dwayne's arm, cockblocking him! Not for a moment did Marko even pause to consider how odd that thought was. It had been so long since he'd actually had a dream, the concept of dream logic escaped him. All he knew was this: he hadn't had sex in over a year, there was a willing participant in front of him (with tits) who could take a bit of the rough stuff, and Dwayne's disembodied parts apparently wanted in on the action too.

"Ugh!" Marko struggled with the arm, even as Dwayne's leg hopped up behind him to give him a good kick in the rear, sending him wailing and flailing over the side of the couch while Star silently watched, a secretive smile on her face.

Marko jerked up, finally managing to pry the arm away and toss it across the room, where it landed in the fountain. That was when another leg hopped around the side of the couch...and when he looked up to ask for a little help from Star, he saw her already making out with Paul's cackling skeleton.

"You... **ASSHOLES!"** He exclaimed, even as he managed to dust himself off and broke into a run to flee from Dwayne's legs as they took off after him. And while he ran, Star watched...a malicious grin plastered on her face. No, she definitely wasn't the sweet girl she used to be. Not at all.

* * *

Lucy strode out to the front yard with a tray of iced tea, wearing a floppy sunhat and shades. They boys had finally finished with their yard work, and despite the fact that it was a punishment, she felt they deserved a little break. Edgar was the first to rush forward and snatch a glass from the tray. For a moment, she could have sworn his eyes lingered on her a little longer than was appropriate, but she supposed it had something to do with the poor boy's stunted social skills.

"You're all doing a _wonderful_ job out here, boys. I've never seen dad's yard look so nice!" And it was true. She actually didn't think it possible to make the place look presentable, with all of the crude carvings and sculptures littering the property. But there was something to be said for hard work.

"Thanks mom," Sam replied, grabbing a glass of tea and taking a long drink from it.

"Oh, Sam...your girlfriend called. The one with that cute little hairstyle," Lucy beamed at him as she handed the last glass of tea to Alan and folded her tray under her arm.

Sam paled, lowering his glass and licking his lips. "Uh...what...what did she say?"

"I didn't really catch much of it...I think she said something about your cards. When you boys finish up around the house, you can call her back." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, ruffling his hair, before she headed back inside. Edgar watched her go, and Alan just watched Sam.

He slapped his face and groaned. _Great._ Roxanne was back from her uncle's. If his brother hadn't been kidnapped by bloodsuckers last year, this would definitely be the worst summer of his life.

"Girlfriend? Like...a friend who is a girl, or an actual girlfriend? The kind you bang?" Alan asked, looking at Sam with more than a little surprise etched on his face.

"A girlfriend...Why are you looking at me like that?" Sam scowled, taking another gulp of tea.

"I thought you were gay." Alan replied bluntly. The Frog brothers didn't beat around the bush.

"WHAT?!" Sam blurted, lowering his tea. "So just because I know how to dress, I like to actually wash my hair, and I've actually got some table manners...that makes me gay? Is that what you're saying?"

Alan shook his head. "No. The Rob Lowe poster makes you gay."

If he didn't know for sure that punching Alan in the face right then would probably tick mom off, he would have already done it. Though, Sam did wonder if maybe being gay _would_ make his life a little easier. He wouldn't wish Roxanne on anyone.

"What's wrong with Rob Lowe?" Edgar interrupted their conversation, frowning.

* * *

Dwayne shifted in his sleep. It felt oddly...empty on his side of the perch. Cracking his eyes open, he struggled to clear the sleep from his eyes. He knew there were a good six hours or so left of sunlight, judging by how heavy his limbs felt...but...something was wrong. Glancing around, he noticed Paul scratching at his healing wounds in his sleep, David holding Michael in a death grip, and...Marko's spot...was empty.

He looked down towards the ground below, and was relieved to see Marko wasn't lying there in a puddle of his own blood with a stake in his chest. Not that it was even possible anymore, now that they roosted so deep in the cave and so high from the ground...but he was half-awake. And it was a struggle to even think right now. Thorn paced the ballroom floor, looking up at them and whining.

Dwayne squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. Of all the times the damn dog had to let them know about some kind of danger, it had to be in the middle of the god damned day.

"What's wrong, Lassie? Did Marko fall down a well" Dwayne rasped, slowly unlatching his clawed feet from the perch and gliding down to the ground. His flight was shaky, but he didn't have any choice.

Even as he touched his boots to the ground, Thorn was tearing out of the ballroom, sprinting like the devil was on his tail. Technically it was, if you counted Dwayne. He stumbled a few times, his legs almost refusing to work, but as he gradually picked up speed, his brain began to process the danger a bit more. There was no way Thorn would be acting like this if Marko wasn't in some deep shit.

Lo and behold, just as they reached the lobby, Dwayne caught sight of a mane of long curls, as Marko rushed towards the exit of the cave, batting at some unseen force assaulting his back and rear, seemingly unaware of the harsh daylight that awaited him in that direction.

"MARKO!"

But it was already too late, before Dwayne could even reach him, Marko was shrieking, and burying his face in his hands as he began to smoke and sizzle. Thorn and Dwayne sailed towards the wayward Lost Boy to save him from himself.

Even as Dwayne managed to bodily drag his pack mate back into the cave, narrowly avoiding a thick beam of light, he felt his fingers sizzling. Thorn was growling and kept a firm hold on Marko's neck with his jaw, because he was still desperately trying to break from their grips together to get outside.

" _What the hell is going on?!"_ David's groggy, but distressed voice entered Dwayne's thoughts.

" _Marko freaked out and tried to off himself,"_ Dwayne replied, stumbling into the couch and keeping his claws dug into Marko's calves as he drug him. He was fast running out of energy to restrain the shorter vampire. He'd already pushed himself to his limits. So he just had to toss Marko onto the couch and collapse on top of him, hoping he'd be able to keep him from wriggling away before the sun went down.

" _That little midget better be okay,"_ Paul threatened, as if Dwayne had anything to do with the crazy shit that just unfolded.

" _Hnghhgn...Smrrhnn?"_ Michael tried to join in on their very short discussion, but he was way too tired to even form coherent words. It was just as well. Dwayne was once more fast asleep. And so was Marko...for now. Thorn gradually released the boy's neck from his mouth, licking at the blood that had gotten on his fangs, and whining. Looking after the Lost Boys was far more stressful than Max, of that the hellhound was certain. And he sensed things were not about to get any easier.


	24. Avoiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam talks on the phone. Dwayne finally speaks up. Paul is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wanted to avoid putting an OC in this story at all, but...Roxanne just...popped into my head. She kind of stayed there. I promise she isn't a self-insert XD. I'd be very concerned about my mental health if she was.

Every. Single. Muscle. _Hurt._ It was like he'd been shoved into a small box for several hours, pulled out, and then immediately stretched on a rack to make up for it. Sam wasn't used to this much manual labor in a week.

"Ed. Alan." He groaned from the couch, arm slung over his face.

The Frog brothers both grunted in response, Alan splayed out on the ground by the coffee table, and Edgar propped upside-down on Grandpa Emerson's lazy boy. He was lucky the old man went out for a mid-day trip to the Widow Johnson's, or he'd find himself as the next stuffed gift for her sitting room. Grandpa had a thing about his chair...much like his car.

"If you guys do any other stupid crap this week...leave me out of it." Sam sighed.

"Boardwalk," growled Edgar.

"...What?" Sam asked incredulously, acting as if he didn't really understand the statement. Unbelievable! All the crap mom made them do, and they still weren't gonna let up on him. What the hell did they think happened?! Granted, he _did_ run into his dead brother, and very nearly the rest of the shit-sucking clan...but there was no way either Ed or Alan could've made the insane leap of logic to even think something like that could have transpired. It was ridiculous! Not only that, is wasn't like they were a couple of brilliant monster-hunting crime-solvers. They had neither a mystery machine nor a right to just assume he was hiding a dark secret. Even if he sorta was. And...yeah... _maybe_ if they went to the boardwalk again, there was a _slight_ chance they'd get their throats torn out, but...but...well...shit.

"What happened. On. The. Boardwalk?" Edgar ground out, tilting his head up as the blood had begun to rush to it, thanks to his awkward sitting position.

"And don't give us that lemonade bullshit!" Alan warned, pushing himself up on his elbows and sneering.

Sam paused in thought. "...You clearly underestimate how much I like lemonade."

The Frog brothers just...stared at him. And that's when he began to break into a nervous sweat.

"Cause...y'know...my grandma loved lemonade. Before she died, she made me promise to drink a glass every night in her honor. It's the only thing I have to remember her by..."

They continued to stare at him, and he took a nervous gulp.

"...I...have...a deathly fear of scurvy."

Still more staring.

"OKAY!" He finally cracked. "The truth...which I am about to tell you...in great detail, with no pauses, no lies, no deception...is..."

The phone rang.

 _Oh thank god!_ Sam leaped off of the couch and practically flew out of the room. He didn't even pause to pretend to apologize.

Edgar and Alan watched him go.

"...He's good..." Edgar intoned, frowning and pulling himself up into a sitting position, scuffing the leather of the chair in the process, leaving a streak of grass and mud on the arm.

"Oh... _We'll get him_..." Alan lay back down on the ground. Already the wheels in his brain were turning again. There was no way Sam could get out of telling them what happened when he was finished with his phone call. Absolutely. No. Way.

* * *

"Heeeeeey, killer," a high-pitched voice greeted over the phone, breaking slightly. She had a very...squeaky voice. And a dangerously thick Midwest accent.

"...Hi," Sam replied, scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the kitchen wall by the window and shifted the phone onto his shoulder. He liked Roxanne. He really did. That was why he classified her as a 'girlfriend'. But...he didn't like to hear her talk.

"Listen, Sammy, I was just looking at your cards here. I'm sitting in the den, and so far...totally rocking reading, right?"

"...Right."

"...And then...BAM!"

Sam jumped, shifting the phone again.

"...BAM!" Roxanne repeated, snorting after she repeated it, as if she freaking _knew_ she'd managed to startle him. "...Bad signs. I'm talking death. I'm talking chalices. I'm talking stuff that doesn't look good...are you following me?"

"I thought you stopped doing card readings?"

"I did. Then I started again. Come on, killer, keep up!" She snorted again, then broke into a short fit of high giggles. God, he hated that laugh.

"Why did you call me, Roxie?"

"Oh, right. Yes. Bad stuff. Cards. Aaaaand...you wanna go out tonight?"

"I thought you weren't getting back from your uncle's until August," Sam was beginning to get worried. He liked Roxanne. He really did. But combining her with the Frogs in one sitting...didn't seem like a very sane idea.

"...I came back early. So...boardwalk...go out...date...yes?" She raised her voice at the last word, as if he was in serious danger of bodily injury if he said no.

"I...I don't know, Roxie. I've got some friends over."

"Bring 'em! We can rock the town! Paint the town red! Get our grooooooves on! Y'know, I never get to meet any of your friends. It's like you don't want them to know you've got such a _sexy_ piece on your arm," Roxanne shouted playfully, far too excited to let him have a choice in the matter.

"...They're...they're different. I don't think you wanna meet them."

"I'll pick you up tonight, ciao, seeya, and bye-byeeeeee!" And then, there was a dial tone.

Sam slowly placed the phone on the hook, frowning. Maybe he had some kind of deep-seated psychological issues that actively _drove_ him to seek out crazy people. Even Star had thought Roxanne was a little odd, and this was the same girl who lived with a pack of vampires for several weeks in a musty cave. Speaking of which...now that he knew without a doubt that Mike and the others were actually 'alive'...going to that cave was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. So, granted, his girlfriend was a bit wild...but she was a pretty good distraction.

* * *

David was the first to wake. Marko was the last. And they all had a lot to talk about.

When all of the boys had managed to gather in the lobby, Marko nestled on the couch wrapped in a blanket, they were at a loss for words. He didn't look quite as bad as Paul, but the skin on his face was peeling and puckered as if someone had given him a good dose of a lighter and a can of hairspray.

David tucked a cigarette in his mouth, but didn't light it. He was a little too distracted and frustrated right then to go through the motion. All the boys back together finally, and it looked like they weren't going to even last a week together if they kept this kind of crazy shit up. First Paul tries to bang the brainless pit ghoul, then Marko decides to simultaneously sleepwalk and get a tan.

"So, what was going through your mind, Marko?" David leaned his head back, keeping his eyes closed. Dwayne sat close to Marko, and Paul was walking around the fountain, balancing on the edge while Michael sat on one side quietly watching the rest of them with his arms crossed.

"...I had a nightmare," Marko replied. That caused everyone to jerk their heads towards them. Everyone except Michael, who avoided looking in his direction. As if he had something to hide.

"You had a _dream?!_ " David hissed, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, brows lowered. None of them dreamed. Vampires _can't_ dream.

Marko shook his head, unsure what to even say, so he just didn't say anything. Paul, standing on one leg with his arms out, didn't even have a joke to throw in.

"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, finally, or are we just going to let it shit everywhere?" Dwayne asked, looking over at David.

"You aren't going anywhere near my brother," Michael interjected, growling.

"...Wasn't really talking about that, but if I run across the little fuck, I can't make any promises," Dwayne snapped back. He didn't like the tone Michael was using. As if he didn't have every right to wring Sam's neck and use his blood as sandwich spread.

Paul hopped down from the fountain and flopped down beside Michael, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "don't worry, Mikey. The brat's safe. Davey would never hurt his sweet little Wifey's baby bro," he pinched Michael's cheek for emphasis, and got a hand full of fangs for his effort.

"AGH!" Paul yanked his hand from Michael's mouth and shook it, scowling. "Play nice, kids," David smirked, looking over at the two.

"I think we've got a ghost," Dwayne stated quietly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch and kicking one of his legs up onto the lip of a nearby oil drum. "...And it's fucking pissed."

David reached into his coat pocket, unable to find his matches, and quickly looked over at Michael. "Michael. Matches."

He might have argued if Dwayne hadn't just dropped a bomb like that. So...the dream he'd had about Star...it was really her?

David's eyebrows shot up and he frowned. "... _You had a dream, too_? And when were you going to tell the rest of the class?!"

Michael dug a small box of matches from his jacket pocket and tossed it towards David, refusing to meet his eyes. "...Didn't know it was a big deal."

"So you were just going to wait until one of us died...again...is that it?" David demanded, lighting his cigarette and taking a long pull.

"I **said** I didn't know it was a big deal!" Michael raised his voice, beginning to get irritated. How the hell did they expect him to know dreaming was apparently not normal?!

"Oh, I don't know, Michael...maybe the fact that you haven't had one since you started sleeping upside-down should have **_clued you in_**?" David replied to Michael's thought, and began to tap his foot against the cave floor. By his own standards, he was keeping his cool. But he was about to lose it, if Michael didn't watch it.

"Hey, I'm really loving the foreplay between you girls, but maybe someone wants to talk about the fact that one of us could die in the morning if we don't figure out a way to fix this shit? Hm? Does that sound like a good plan?" Marko waved his arm, getting their attention. His eyebrows had grown back by now, and some of the dead skin had sloughed away from his face, but he'd need more blood to completely heal. Paul did, too.

Dwayne lifted his wrist to his mouth and morphed, wordlessly tearing into the flesh to let a stream of crimson flow down his arm, and pulled Marko close to him. He didn't have to say anything, pretty soon the smaller vampire was chowing down.

"Oh, you'll give Marko some, but _I_ have to grin and bear it, huh?" Paul whined, kicking back and leaning against the rusted chandelier that sat inside the fountain.

Dwayne shrugged in response. "You had it coming. Marko was a victim. You're just an idiot."

"So...the ghost probably isn't Star, right? I mean, I had a dream about her...but it could just be...pretending to be her, right?" Michael asked hopefully, not even really convincing _himself_. He avoided looking at David, because he just knew if they made eye contact...one of them was going to lose his temper. It was just one of those nights.

 _"Oh, it's her alright. And she's a fucking tease..."_ Marko whispered in their minds, keeping his lips firmly latched to Dwayne's wrist as he kept drinking.

Paul licked his lips longingly, watching the display. _"This is bad, yeah. Really, I mean it...but...can we maybe talk about it after I get a bite to eat?"_

 _"Sounds like a plan."_ Dwayne agreed as he pulled his wrist away from Marko's grasp and licked away the last bit of clotted blood as it healed. "Anybody got any ideas how to get rid of Star _without a_ priest?"

 _"...Do we have to get rid-"_ Michael didn't even finish the thought. They were all glaring at him even before he 'voiced' it.


	25. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Roxie. The Frogs and Sam meet the Lost Boys (again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy Jack was an action series of movies in the 70s. One of them had bikers. It is cheesy. And it is awesome.

That night, Sam paced the kitchen nervously, pulling the window curtain aside every so often to glance outside, and then turn away. Edgar and Alan just watched him from the kitchen table, arms crossed. He still hadn't told them. Because he didn't really know how to go about it now, or what they'd even do if they found out he was trying to protect his brother from what they'd see as a well-earned staking. Sam hadn't forgotten Mike mentioning the people he'd killed. The fact that he could even bring himself to do something like that...it was seriously messed up. And even if they stayed at the house, boarded up the room, surrounded themselves with crosses and holy stuff...they wouldn't be able to hide away forever. If the vamps wanted them dead, they'd probably be a lot smarter about it this time around. Sam...was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Why are you so nervous?" Edgar growled, leaning forward and clasping his hands over his knees.

"Nervous? I'm not nervous," Sam shook his head furiously, nearly slipping on a dishcloth he'd knocked to the ground when he leaned against the counter.

"Fess up, Sam. You said you were gonna tell us what you saw." Alan shoved himself away from the table and stood up.

He heard her long before he saw her coming. There was no mistaking the clanking and screeching of Roxie's rusted Oldsmobile. To celebrate her arrival, a parade of gray smoke puffed and puttered out of the back as she pulled up to the front of the house, manically honking her horn to get his attention before she even pulled into park.

Sam glanced out the window, and then back to the Frog brothers, who by now were both standing and closing in on him. "MIKESAVAMPIREANDALLTHESHITSUCKERSAREBACKSOWENEEDTOWATCHOURBACKSCAUSETHEY'REGONNAPROBABLYTRYTOTEAROURASSESANEWONETONIGHT..." He gasped out in one long panicked stream before dashing out of the kitchen.

Alan and Edgar were stunned into silence. That was...actually a lot worse than either of them expected.

"So...you catch all of that?" Edgar turned to his brother.

Alan nodded, crossing his arms. "Shoulda brought more stakes..."

* * *

As Sam pulled open the passenger side door, he wasn't really quite...prepared to see what Roxanne had done to herself. She'd always been a bit crazy, a bit loud, and even a bit cute...but going from blonde waves to a hot pink buzzcut...that was a little extreme, even for him. Of course, the green gator-skin cowboy boots, Johnny Rotten t-shirt, and cut-off denim shorts didn't help either. But she always dressed like that.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?!" He exclaimed, sliding into the car while Edgar and Alan piled into the backseat without so much as saying a word. Good. He didn't want to talk about all the vampire bullshit with Roxie. She'd probably lap it up.

"You don't like?" Roxanne gingerly touched her hair, the longest part being a chunk of side-swept bangs that fell over the left eye of her John Lennon sunglasses. "I think it's pretty bitchin'. Gives me that...punk rocker wild child kinda groove, y'know?" She blew a large bubble with the bubblegum she was smacking, giggling madly when it popped all over her bangs. "Oops..." Reaching up with long pink nails to match the hair, Roxanne slowly began to untangle strings of sticky candy from her face.

Sam smiled weakly, slinking down in his seat as he began to buckle his seat-belt. "You look great, Roxie...it's just...I wasn't expecting it, is all." He gestured to her bubble-gum coated hair.

"I don't think we've introduced ourselves," Edgar rasped, leaning forward and shoving his hand over Roxanne's shoulder. She paused in sticking a piece of gum back into her mouth, then used the same hand she'd been picking at the candy with to awkwardly squeeze and shake his in greeting. "Nice ta meetcha. Name's Roxanne. Roxie for short. I'm killer's eye candy. I'm the reason he's up late at night rockin' the mattress all alone, if ya know what I mean," she gave a bit of a snort and laugh, making Sam cover his face in embarrassment.

"Roxie," Sam pleaded, trying to get her to shut up.

"I'm Edgar. This is my brother, Alan. We used to run a comic shop on the boardwalk and defend Santa Carla from the unholy dead," Edgar explained, seemingly un-phased by Roxanne's social skills (or lack thereof).

"Cool. Cool. Hey, that's the place that got shish-kebabed, right? Went up in smoke last summer? Bit the big one at the end of a cigarette butt?" Roxanne rubbed the end of her nose, itching it and snorting slightly as her sunglasses slipped down from her eyes.

"Yeah," Alan chimed in, leaning back in his seat and frowning. He didn't seem to be too hot on Roxie.

Roxanne turned the key in the ignition and revved her engine, while 'Dancing With Myself' began to blare from the car radio at max volume.

"HOLD ONTO YER JOCK STRAPS, LADIES!" She shouted, pealing off and out of the driveway. Sam was used to this...but he noticed through the rear-view mirror that for once, the Frogs were the scared ones. Good. He smirked and glanced back over at Roxie. She did have her good points, when you got past the...everything.

* * *

She stood at the entrance to the cave, watching the boys depart. So they'd figured her out...she hadn't been quick enough. Should have dealt with Marko earlier in the day so Dwayne couldn't help him. Her shell, her former body, howled below in frustration. For a much different reason. Star was becoming restless. She couldn't get much further than the cave before she was pushed or shoved back by some unseen force, so it wasn't like she could follow the boys and force mysterious accidents to happen.

Sinking back into the cave, she gave the equivalent of a sigh, and wondered it perhaps...just perhaps...there was another option. She already decided she was going to save Michael's death for last, for some sentimental reason she couldn't really grasp anymore. But he was the easiest to possess. The others...she had a tentative hold at best. If only there was someone...human...nearby. It would make things much easier.

She'd even tried taking hold of Thorn, but the hell-hound was the most resistant out of all of them. Star would have to figure out a way to distract the damn thing long enough so there'd be no warning when she tried to possess one of the boys again. But who would she try it on next? Settling down on the couch, the Shadow of Star pondered this choice...and Thorn wasn't surprised at all when he heard a strange hissing laughter disturb his nap. He growled in her direction from his spot by the fountain.

* * *

David pulled his bike to a full stop, soon followed by the rest of the gang. Marko and Paul dashed off through the crowd once they'd arrived, already anxious to find quick meals and replenish their blood. Which left David, Dwayne, and Michael. They didn't need to feed tonight, but it was an unspoken agreement that at the moment they were probably safest to discuss their little ghost problem far away from the cave.

 _"We can't use holy water. Can't use a priest. There pretty much aren't many other traditional options,"_ David decided it best to initiate the conversation mentally. He didn't generally broadcast their personal problems where any normal human could hear. That would just be begging for trouble, given some of the vigilante freaks like those Frogs walking around. Speaking of which, he and Marko had yet to make proper plans to visit them in Florida for more payback yet. Maybe when they were done dealing with Star's cranky dead ass.

 _"No shamans around this city either, as far as I know,"_ Dwayne replied.

 _"We could just try talking to her,"_ Michael, ever the optimist when it came to Star. Hell, that was why they were in this situation in the first place.

 _"And tell her what, Michael? 'Please stop trying to kill us, we're all terribly sorry Michael trapped you and your living corpse in our den'?"_ David drawled, laughing aloud at the idea.

Michael shrugged, not really seeing the problem. They hadn't actively tried communicating with her yet, so how did they know it _wouldn't_ work?

 _"Not hard to tell your parents were hippies,"_ Dwayne smirked.

Just as Michael was getting prepared to tell them both where they could shove their Star problems, he caught something out of the corner of his eye, and wasn't too terribly happy...or surprised to see it. Standing right in front of a jewelry store, a small group huddled together. The Frogs, covering their faces (very obviously) with newspapers, his sheepish-looking brother who seemed to be trying to desperately shove the others out of sight and looking over at him apologetically...as if that was going to help him...and a pretty hyper-looking girl with hot pink hair to match her cotton candy while she chortled like a hyena at the Frogs.

 _"Jesus Christ, Sam..."_ Michael rubbed at his temples, and glanced over at both Dwayne and David. They'd already caught sight of the group, and he just knew this was going to be yet another bad night.

* * *

"What're you doing?!" Roxie struggled to catch her breath, not really understanding Sam's friends, or why they were standing still as statues with newspapers in front of their faces...after having cut eye-holes through them. But they sure were funny!

"Ed. Alan. We can't just stand around here! They're looking right at us!" Sam pleaded, trying to push himself up against both of them, and only managing to force them to jostle their papers a bit.

"We can't turn our backs on them now, Sam, we gotta stay alert!" Edgar insisted.

"Them? Them, who?" Roxanne's eyes grew as wide as dishes. "...Are there like...Russian spies around here somewhere?" She whispered, glancing around as she shoved a large piece of cotton candy in her mouth and smacked her lips. "Red Dawn in Santa Carla...that would be bitchin'..." She mused, grinning. Bits of pink spun sugar clung to her teeth.

"Roxie, can you help me here? And no, there aren't any Russian spies here, just those douche bags on the bikes," he nodded his head towards Mike, David, and Dwayne...then took a deep breath when he realized there were two missing. Oh shit...oh shit...oh shit...

"Ohhhhhh!" Roxie exclaimed, covering her mouth with one hand. "Ohmygosh, I haven't like...I haven't seen those boogers in like...a year! You got some kinda beef with them? Man, I heard a **lotta** weeeeird stuff about those guys. Like...National Enquirer weird. I heard one of them is two midgets in a suit," She narrowed her eyes, and nudged Sam with her elbow. "...You get into a turf war with a freaky biker gang? Don't tell me you pulled a Billy Jack on them! I didn't know you had it in ya, killer!"

Roxie was marvelously, impressively, and hopelessly...oblivious in every respect of the word.

"So...which of us is gonna go talk to them?" Alan asked, voice quivering slightly. Given their last run-in, he was just glad he couldn't see the Twisted Sister lookalike anywhere. Or the little one.

"Why do we wanna do that? And how the hell are they even walking around?!" Edgar rasped, growing more and more nervous with each passing second. They could be all talk when they weren't actively faced with the monsters, but the reality was far different. Suddenly they both...kind of wished Sam hadn't told them the secret he'd been hiding.

"LOOKIE WHAT I FOUND!" Paul's hands slapped down hard on both Edgar and Alan's backs, and the Frog brothers stumbled forward, only to feel sharp claws dig into their respective shoulders.

"...Shit..." Sam whispered, not even having to turn around to know the other one was standing behind him, smirking, biting on his gloved thumb.

"Whoa...mondo freaky," Roxie lowered her cotton candy and gasped. She leaned over to Sam and whispered in his ear, which he really wished she wouldn't. "Hey, killer...I'm gettin' mad bad vibes from these dudes. They're really harshing my aura..."

"...I just want to be the first to say...We're really sorry about the bath," Edgar whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut tight, half-expecting the vampire behind them to tear his throat out right then and there.


	26. Riding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys take Sam, the Frogs, and Roxie for a joyride.

****

There wasn't a lot of fanfare, driving the group towards David and the rest of his gang. Edgar and Alan both attempted to dig their heels into the ground, but they really didn't have much luck fighting against Paul as he shoved them ahead. Sam wasn't dumb enough to even try, wrapping an arm around Roxie's waist and daring one look back at Marko. The shorter vampire only smiled at him pleasantly, with just a hint of menace in his eyes. Jeeze, how did Mike even get involved with these guys? Even if Sam didn't know they were bloodsuckers...they were creepy as shit. Could he make a run for it? If he just...left the Frogs there...would him and Roxie even have a chance of getting away? There were enough people around to keep them from flying or pulling one of their freaky-ass magic tricks to catch them. At least not while they were still in a crowd...

But...Damn it, even if he could get away, there was that pesky sense of decency and loyalty keeping him from doing it. And...maybe Mike would somehow keep them safe? Sam glanced over to his brother, who seemed intent on avoiding eye contact with him, looking just about everywhere else. ' _Mike! You asshole! Do something!_ _I'm your brother, you stupid shit-sucker!'_ He wanted to shout, and for a second...he could swear he thought he saw Michael flinch as if he had.

Roxanne was oddly silent, which...didn't tend to bode well. The closer they were led to the other vampires, the more her silence was unnerving him. That could only mean...

"WHOAAAA, talk about rancid milk and rat butts! Dude, seriously...you should totes drink some mouthwash cocktails. Like...stat. I think it's terminal," Roxanne pinched her nose, turning to glance at Marko as they were drawn to a halt, and the force of his laughter caused his breath to brush up against the back of her head. The outburst looked like it was enough to wipe the perpetual grin off of his face, but it sent Paul beside him into a fit of giggles, even as he kept his hands firmly gripped on Ed and Alan's shoulders to keep them from running off.

"Your girl's got a mouth on her, don't she, blondie?" Marko ruffled Sam's hair, sharp nails just slightly cutting into his scalp in the process. A warning? Sam didn't want to find out.

Roxanne wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, even as he kept his firmly wrapped around hers. "I don't know what you want with Sammy-boy, but yer gonna have to get th-"

"Roxie. _Please._ " Sam was getting close to clapping a hand over her mouth to shut her up. He just knew she was only going to make things worse.

"She's got a point," David observed. "Your breath smells like shit, Marko," he added, as if he needed to clarify.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you!" Marko snapped, pointing a finger first at Roxanne, then Paul, and finally David.

"Look, blo...shi...guys, we don't want any trouble," Sam mumbled, looking down at his feet. He was particularly nervous around the dark-haired one beside his brother, given their very brief history together. What's more, he had neither a stereo system nor a crossbow at the moment to defend himself.

"Yeah. We even told Sam we needed to just forget about you guys, isn't that right, Alan?" Edgar turned towards his brother, who nodded vigorously. Sam's eyes widened. He'd had no idea he was close personal friends with Benedict Arnold and Judas. And when they turned to him with accusatory stares, he had to bite back the urge to tell them where they could shove their stake collection, if they survived this little meeting and got the chance to go back home.

"Oh _man,_ what kinda stuff am I missin' out on, here? Didja beat them in a drag race, steal their girls, and run them outta town, Killer?!" Roxie grinned widely, bouncing just a little on the balls of her feet, and he knew right then and there that they were going to have an intermission about just how many low-grade action movies she was allowed to watch anymore.

"Killer?" Michael finally spoke up. The asshole finally decided to talk, and it was to criticize his nickname...Sam scowled at him, despite his crippling fear of inevitable doom and death that was surely about to take place before sunrise.

"...I blew up a frog in biology class..." Sam replied, now deciding to play the 'avoid looking at you, because you're a dick' game too. He couldn't believe Michael wasn't doing _anything_ to save him! Wasn't even speaking up to protect his little brother! He really was a monster now...just like the rest of them.

* * *

 _"I'm not really hungry tonight,"_ Dwayne remarked mentally, glancing about at the rest of the group and leering at Sam. He'd make no effort not to put the boy on edge tonight. It wasn't like he didn't have a good reason to hate the little asshole and his punk friends.

 _"Good, then we can just let them go,"_ Michael looked at Dwayne as he thought this. He didn't actually think the suggestion would have any weight, he was just clarifying that he still didn't want them murdered and dumped in Star's playpen.

 _"Why would we wanna do that?"_ Paul's turn to crack another grin as he suddenly draped both of his arms around Edgar and Alan's necks, as if they were the best of friends. He even leaned in to give Alan a quick smooch on the cheek, which made the Frog pale considerably.

"You taste pretty good," Paul said out loud, which only made Alan shake his head vigorously.

"You don't want me. I'm...I'm anemic!" He insisted.

"Me too, I'm all runny and stuff," Edgar agreed.

"What kinda coo-coo pills are you guys on?!" Roxie exclaimed, growing more and more confused. It was clear the girl struggled to even comprehend what anemia had to do with guys kissing each other.

 _"...We're not killing them,"_ David decided, blowing a puff of smoke into the air and grinning when Michael turned towards him with a look of confusion and...just barely gratitude at the same time. He couldn't tell. He'd never seen that look on the boy's face before.

 _"What?! You gotta be kidding me!"_ Paul's smile fell. He'd been all ramped up for some bloodshed. Granted, he and Marko had just enjoyed themselves a back alley buffet before catching their current quarry. But still! He could still feel the burn of holy water in his bones whenever he crossed paths with a religious nut. He didn't know if that pain was ever going to go away.

To the humans among them, not privy to their thoughts, they looked a bit...peculiar. Going from hot to cold, exchanging the strangest looks between each other. This only made Roxie begin to ponder if they were lizard aliens with complex forms of communication expressed by lips and eyebrow wiggling. She didn't say it...but the thought was strong enough to cause all of the Lost Boys to glance at her for a short moment, before drawing themselves back to their own conversation.

 _"I've got a better idea. Might even solve our other problem back at the cave,"_ David began laughing. And the Frogs joined in nervously. But that was cut off pretty quickly when Dwayne looked at them both with a threatening scowl. They shut their mouths.

"Marko, you take the girl. Paul, you get Rambo Jr. Dwayne, the other one is riding with you. Aaaaand...Michael, why don't you take your brother?" David flicked his cigarette into the air and slid a leg over the side of his bike, grinning.

"Brother?!" Roxanne turned to Sam. _"_ I thought you said he joined the circus! _"_ She whispered.

 _"..._ When did I _ever_ say that?!" Sam blurted back at her. "I said he ran away!"

"...Oh. Yeah, I just assumed..." She looked back over at Michael, raising her eyebrows. "So...are you guys in a _biker_ circus?" She asked hopefully, unwilling to let go of the idea. Now thoughts of alien carnies were swirling around in her head.

"Jeeze, Sam..." Michael just shook his head at his brother's taste in girls. Obviously brains weren't a prerequisite for him. Or sanity. Or tits. She was as flat as a dish-board.

"...What are you gonna do to us?" Edgar asked weakly, as Marko shoved him towards his bike. What he wouldn't give for a sharp piece of wood right then. A beechwood stick. A broken baseball bat. A pencil. Anything!

"Relax. We're just gonna have a little party. Isn't that right boys?" David called out to his gang and chuckled. They all joined in, though Michael's laugh was hollow and weak at best.

 _"I meant what I said when I told you I'd kill you if you hurt Sam,"_ Michael gave David a quick angry glance before helping Sam onto the back of his bike. Sam was glaring daggers at him right then.

* * *

The trip back to the cave was mostly 'quiet'. Except for the sound of crashing waves, roaring motors, and the occasional bout of howling laughter. They drove recklessly over the sand and grassy hills, and Paul especially looked as if he were going to crash into a tree or obstacle at every chance he got, swerving at the last second and grinning to himself when he felt Edgar squeeze onto his shoulders.

 _"Better watch it, Paulie, don't wanna have to clean your bike seat later, do you?"_ Marko teased, passing him.

 _"Michael, keep up!"_ David turned to glance back at the younger vampire, who looked like he was trying everything he could to keep his brother behind him at ease, without falling so far behind that he lost sight of the rest of them.


	27. Joining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edgar drinks something funny.

Roxanne popped her gum noisily and smacked her lips as they were led into the Sunken Hotel. Sam and the Frogs were acquainted with it already, however briefly, but none of them could deny how much creepier the place looked at night without fingers of day reaching in through the entrance promising refuge from the monsters inside. Not to mention, said monsters were right behind them, driving the humans into the center of the lobby.

"Bogus," Roxanne whistled, shaking her head. Her sunglasses slipped slightly down her nose as her bangs brushed over her eyes.

"Is this some kinda make-out dive they don't talk about at school?" She turned towards Sam, the slight twitch of her lips a good indicator that the ride on the motorcycles with the psychopathic killers hadn't quite destroyed her sense of humor. Then again...maybe she wasn't joking. The look she was giving implied the latter. Sam could only slowly shake his head in response, because right now was not the time to get to second base, as much as he would otherwise have jumped at the chance.

David strode ahead of the group, spinning about and spreading his arms wide with a vicious grin. Not the sort of smile that would make anyone feel particularly welcome. "Home sweet home. But you boys have been here before, haven't you?" He lowered his eyebrows menacingly and flopped down into his wheelchair, gesturing for them to take their seats at the couch.

"Sorry we couldn't entertain ya a bit better last time, huh?" Paul whispered between Alan and Edgar. They looked like they were just about to break into a run before he poked their backs with sharp claws.

"Duuuuude...you guys live here?!" Roxanne exclaimed, flopping down on the couch with Sam and the Frog brothers. It was a tight fit, but they all managed. None of them was really about to speak up and complain about the accommodations.

"No, we don't _live_ here," Marko replied, leaning over the back of the couch and snickering.

* * *

Michael rolled his eyes and crossed his arms and sat down on the edge of the fountain beside Dwayne. He wasn't about to say anything, given the theatrical mood David was apparently trying to set, but given how close and personal he'd gotten with the 'man behind the curtain', it was hard to believe he'd fallen for this performance the first time he'd been brought there.

 _"What are you planning to do with them, David?"_ Michael glanced over at the leader of the gang, who didn't even let his eyes flicker back in acknowledgment.

 _"You'll find out soon enough, **sweetheart** ," _David replied, the last word oozing sarcasm.

 _"Please tell me you're not gonna turn one of them...that's just...that's a bit cliche..."_ Michael raised his eyebrows slightly. He wouldn't wish this on anyone. He definitely wouldn't want Sam to go through it. And...the idea of spending the next several decades with Alan, Edgar, or even the pink-haired bimbo was enough to drive anyone nuts.

 _"Shit, I hope not. If you do, Davey, we will seriously ditch your ass in the pit with Star,"_ Paul's turn to look at David. He didn't look as if he honestly thought they were going to do something like that, but the sentiment remained the same. _None_ of them wanted any of these kids in their 'family'.

 _"Seconded,"_ Dwayne agreed. _"As blustery as those two over there are, just imagine how bad they'd be if they were vampires. They'd out us in less than a week, and we'd have a whole army of wannabe hunters to deal with."_

David snorted, _"I'm not turning any of them. When the fuck have I ever done something that stupid?"_

Marko wiggled his eyebrows, _"first time you saw Star. Remember? Used the blood as panty peeler, if I recall correctly..."_

 _"You **WHAT?!** " _Michael turned back to David with a slight growl, the thought loud enough in everyone's minds to make them all shift slightly. Maybe he didn't know Star at the time, didn't know any of them...but the idea that he'd basically date raped her with vampire blood...It took everything he had not to morph right then and there on the fountain and lash out at David.

 _"Nah, man, he's lying. They'd already fucked by the time Davey was plying her with that shit,"_ Paul cackled, and it was no surprise when Edgar and Alan both whimpered and squeezed their eyes shut. Clearly they were expecting an attack at any second, and no one was bothering to alleviate that fear.

David just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his wheelchair. _"Marko...get that other bottle we keep under the bed. You know the one."_

Dwayne, Michael, and Paul turned their gaze towards Marko. And because they did, so too did the humans sitting nervously on their couch together.

Marko cracked a wide grin, looking down at all four of the teens, putting a gloved thumb to his mouth and biting on it. _"Really? We're finally using it?!"_ He was almost too excited for words.

David simply nodded.

* * *

It was without a doubt one of the greatest challenges of his life for Alan not to perpetually scowl at the monsters he was surrounded by. What he wouldn't give for a good sharp stake, then and there. Oh, he was definitely terrified. And he wasn't about to tell them what he _really_ thought about their weird male bonding theme they had going on with all the leather, and the fact that they slept together in the same...cave...room...chamber...thing. But god, he didn't even know how he and Edgar were going to survive the night. If they did, it would be the greatest mistake those bloodsuckers had ever made. Because he and Ed were going to come back, guns blazing once the sun rose.

His eyes followed the little one as it skipped away towards a large bed covered by a canopy tucked away in the corner of the lobby. He frowned, and looked back towards the rest of the vampires. Sam's brother looked confused. So there was a good chance he didn't know what was going on. Then again, he was pretty dumb, from what Alan could tell. After all...what kind of idiot would get himself turned into a vampire twice in one week?

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when Michael turned to give him an angry glare. Shit...did he...? No. No, that wasn't possible. Was it?

"So," David spoke up again, keeping the smug expression plastered on his face, "watch any good movies lately?"

"Oh! I saw one about these awesome monster trucks that totally took over New York, and like...fought alligators on the empire state building. There were tanks and guns, and RADICAL EXPLOSIONS! Totally bitchin'," Roxanne piped up, grinning widely.

"I...I watched 16 Candles," Edgar growled quietly. Alan's eyed widened as he turned on his brother. _"You said mom rented that!"_ He exclaimed in a low voice. Edgar just shrugged. There didn't seem to be much point in lying. They were probably dead anyway.

"Molly Ringwald is a compelling protagonist with an engaging storyline," Edgar replied.

Marko trotted up towards David with a bottle in his hand, and passed it over to him. It was fairly simple. Unlabeled. There was still a lit of paper flaking away where the glue used to be...and inside, Alan could see the unmistakable red bright hue of _blood._ Without even thinking, he clung to his brother's sleeve and whimpered. Edgar did likewise. Sam shifted in his seat and tried to keep a brave face. Roxanne didn't react at all, because it just looked like a bottle to her.

But Alan _knew_ what it was. He _knew_ then what the vampires were going to do with them. Maybe force all of the boys to drink...maybe just one of them...oh god, he could already feel the itch of sharpened teeth under his gums at the very thought. It made sense, though. With their elite hunting skills at nearly annihilating the creatures, of course they'd only try to recruit them into the ranks. The 'if you can't beat em, join em' philosophy came to mind. But Alan would fight with every last ounce of willpower to keep from drinking what was in that bottle. Even if it meant they'd have to torture him to death.

"UGH...is that clamato? You don't refrigerate it?" Roxanne gagged, so grossed out she accidentally swallowed her gum.

"Roxie...it's not clamato," Sam whispered in her ear, squeezing her close to him. He looked over at Mike, and hoped with all his might that his brother was just putting up a front...and had some kind of plan to get them out of this mess.

"He's right..." David rasped, uncorking the bottle and taking a deep whiff. "...This isn't clamato..."

 _Of course it's not...it's the juice straight from the vein of an evil bloodsucker! A casket creep! A creature from beyond the grave! A-_ Alan's thoughts were suddenly cut off when David held the bottle towards him with a malicious grin.

"Let's let bygones be bygones...drink some of this. Be one of us...You'll like it. And I promise if one of you does it, nobody else has to."

* * *

 _"You use that line every time, don't you? Here I thought I was special,"_ Michael thought sarcastically, casting David a glance.

 _"Oh, you're special Mikey, don't worry. You're the precious little snowflake he rides like a pony to the circus every night,"_ Marko supplied cheerfully.

 _"He's said other stuff before. Like...'you won't get pregnant, this is a different kinda pill...'"_ Paul's helpful contribution.

 _"As if he isn't shooting blanks anyway,"_ Dwayne snorted.

* * *

Alan glanced between Sam and Edgar nervously, reaching towards the bottle with a shaking hand. He didn't want to do this...didn't want to have shit breath for the rest of his days, or an all liquid diet, or gnarly toenails, or-...Edgar solved the problem for him and snatched the bottle quickly from David's grasp.

"This is for you, bro," Ed nobly growled, slinging the bottle back and taking one long gulp.

"ED! NOOOOOOO!" Alan shouted, jumping to try and slap the bottle from Edgar's hand before Paul reached over and slammed him back down in his seat, then gave him a quick pat on the cheek.

"Relax, bud, it's all gonna be fine...promise..." He teased. And then the bottle fell from Edgar's hand, crashing to the ground in front of him.

"Dude...totes wild. You guys allergic to tomatoes or somethin?" Roxanne's eyes widened as she leaned forward to watch the scene that played out between the frog brothers.

Sam licked his lips and looked over at Roxanne with a weak smile. In a way, he thought they kind of deserved it for being backstabbing assholes...but on the other hand, he knew what it was like to lose a brother. And he didn't wish that on anybody. "They're fine, Roxie. Alan just...he's just eccentric," Sam shrugged. The less was said, the better. She didn't need to be dragged into this mess too.

"ED!" Alan began to weep, pulling his brother into his arms and holding him close.

"It's gonna be okay, Alan...we're...we're gonna be fine..." Edgar gasped, sobbing into Alan's shoulder. He could already feel the evil liquid working it's dark magic on his insides. Changing him. Corrupting him. He only hoped his brother would keep good on their promise to stake him, if the need arose.

* * *

By the time the party was just about over, and Michael was walking alongside David towards their bikes, he was incredulous.

 _"So...it's just rotten tomato juice and egg yolks?"_ He asked, shaking his head and smirking despite himself. It _was_ pretty funny...and he didn't really have too much sympathy left for the Frogs after how they'd treated Sam tonight. Acting as if he was the idiot stalking the boardwalk for clues about vampires, trying to steal grandpa's car to investigate the cave...

 _"Yeah. But they don't need to know. Besides, it's going to be hilarious to see what they think is happening when the dumber one has the runs in the morning,"_ it was David's turn to smirk. What's more, once they were able to get everyone safe and sound back to their homes, he'd know if his other plan had worked or not.


	28. Driving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone goes home. Everything...is almost back to normal. Almost.

Roxanne looked at the Frog brothers through her rear-view mirror as she adjusted it. They were still crying. They'd been silently weeping since they'd left that weird cave. She blew her bangs away from her face and looked back towards the road ahead of her. Now she wasn't gonna say anything about it. Clearly Clamato made them emotional for some unknown reason. What really bugged her was that funny cold feeling she was getting back there when she crossed in front of that musty bed. Like there was some kinda AC jerry-rigged under the mattress running at max power. She usually only got those vibes when trippy stuff went down. Maybe there was something to it?

"So...Uh..." Roxanne dug a piece of gum out of her cup-holder and popped it into her mouth while she tried to think of something to say. "Your brother back there...and his friends...they were nice." It wasn't entirely untrue. They'd all been fairly pleasant, except for those mondo strange looks they had. But she guessed that was just how alien lizard circus bikers acted. Wait...if the one with the curly hair was Sam's bro...did that mean they could induct people? Whoa! Real life bodysnatchers in Santa Carla!

"Yeah... _nice_ ," Sam snorted, rolling his eyes and looking out the window. He didn't look too happy. So Roxanne rapidly began to chew her bubblegum and drum her fingers on her steering wheel to try and think of something to cheer him up.

"Hey! Killer! I never toldja bout those cards, did I? Okay, so...your past, that was the tower-"

"Roxie, I'm really not in the mood right now. Maybe later." Sam turned to his girlfriend with a slight frown, shaking his head.

"...Okay. That's cool. I mean, towers are all about major life changes and junk, then there was that death card...but if you don't wanna hear it, you don't have to. Not saying a thing. Lips. _Sealed_. Won't even mention the eight of cups, the abandonment and escapism...and y'know, I'm not even gonna bring up that vision I had about you last night. Your Roxie is gonna stay quiet, right here, and drive. Not gonna say a thing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Silent...as the grave."

" _Roxie_."

"And y'know what, who cares if I had a bad dream about you, am I right?" She was picking up speed as she drove, smacking her gum faster. "I mean...it's not like it's the end of the world. Not like...not like I saw your throat being ripped out and blood all over the walls, and flying monkeys, and-"

"Roxie!"

"...I'm done. I didn't say a thing." Roxanne shrugged and tossed her head back, flipping her bangs and reaching up to re-adjust her sunglasses.

"Alan, you know that box I keep under the bed back home? The secret one? Burn it. I need you to promise me you're gonna do that," Edgar growled at his brother, wiping at his eyes.

"We're gonna make it through this! Don't say shit like that! It's just me and you against the world, Ed. The bad monster bashers!" Alan gripped Edgar's shoulders and gave him a firm shake. Roxanne rolled her eyes. Sam had some mondo weird friends. At first they were kinda funny, but the minute they started crying...she seriously began to wonder about their mental health. And if they were staying with Sam like he'd said, she completely understood why he was acting so on edge.

Leaning closer to Sam, Roxanne lowered her eyebrows, " _are they on Xanax or somethin? They're really killing my sugar high right now."_

Sam looked back at the Frog brothers and sighed, "they're on _something._ "

* * *

When Roxanne finally pulled into the driveway, Sam wasn't surprised to see his mother standing at the front porch in her robe with her arms crossed. Christ, how late _was_ it? Man...she did not look happy. At all.

"Listen, Roxie...I'm really sorry how I've been acting tonight. A lot of stuff is happening right now, and I just really don't wanna drag you into it, you know?" Sam turned to Roxanne as she parked the car, and wasn't surprised to catch a tiny frown on her face. She acted cheerful, but he knew he'd hurt her feelings when he told her he snapped at her about the cards.

"Yeah...that's cool, that's cool," Roxanne bobbed her head up and down, reaching towards the glove compartment in front of Sam and popping it open with her key. Inside was a stack of papers, and a bundle of dried weeds...or herbs...something. Wouldn't you know, that was what she grabbed and shoved into his hands.

"Look, this is Sage, killer," Roxie ran a hand through her hair and scratched at her scalp. "Listen to me, or don't. Or just...whatever. Just...if things feel funny, y'know...burn this around the house. Wave it in the corners and stuff. It'll make you feel better. And gimme a call when you actually wanna have some fun, okay?"

Sam looked at the bundle of sage in his hands and held it up to his nose to sniff. Yep. It smelt like sage...he really didn't know what he should've expected.

"You know I don't believe in this stuff, Roxie," he sighed.

"Like I said. If things feel funny...just give it a shot. Trust me. Now get outta my car, killer, I gotta get it back home before the engine gets shot. Was supposed ta work on it today, but kinda got distracted when I started thinkin' bout seein' yer cute butt again." Roxie gave him a playful shove, and he pushed open the car door, pausing just once to look back at her.

"Seeya," he smiled weakly. She was weird, there was no doubt about that. Sometimes a little nuts. Not the best driver. Talked a lot...a _lot. _ But...she was pretty fun. And somehow, he doubted any other girl would have handled their run-in with Mike and his friends as 'well' as she did tonight. Or, frankly, put up with the Frog brothers in the backseat.

By the time Sam and the Frogs were heading into the house, Lucy didn't say anything. She didn't seem to know what she should say. The look of disappointment on her face was enough to make him feel...awful. He didn't need to look over towards Grandpa's workshop door to notice him glaring out at them with an equally disappointed frown. Jeeze, even the old man.

"Sam, let's go to the kitchen. I'll make us some tea, and we can talk." His mom put a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him through the house. The Frogs followed, and thank god they'd finally stopped crying.

* * *

David paced the lobby with Thorn at his side. He'd kept the dog by Star's pit when they brought their guests over, just in case he decided to get a little payback for Max. Not that David was even sure the hellhound even knew the Frogs and Sam had a hand in the former head vampire's death, but better safe than sorry. Not that he really cared if they got turned into free range dog chow, but Michael was still pretty stubbornly attached to his former brother. That's how David thought of the little blonde brat. Just a former brother. There wasn't any blood left between him and Michael to claim anything else anymore. Of course, he could just go ahead and do whatever the fuck he wanted, but he'd let Michael have this. Plus, there was something to be said for just...screwing with them. He knew the rest of the boys were enjoying it.

"Smell anything, Thorn?" David knelt down to the hellhound and pulled it's face up to meet his eyes. He wasn't growling. Wasn't scratching at anything. Didn't seem like he was in the mood to pace...he was just acting...normal.

"Dwayne, you said Thorn freaks out whenever this shit with the ghost starts to go down, right?" David glanced over at the darker-haired vampire reclining on the couch, who nodded back as he reached under the couch to snatch up a well-worn paperback novel. Marko leaned over the back of the couch, pondering whether or not he'd fuck with him and try to snatch the book away.

"Well then. One more problem gone." David released Thorn's head and dusted his gloves off. There was white fur all over them. _Ugh_.

Michael crossed his arms and leant against the cave wall. "So what...she just picked one of them, headed out, and that's it?" He could already see a lot of holes in this 'plan' of David's. Not to mention, he still didn't want to let Star go. Not even one part of her. Yeah, he knew he was being stupid...but he still felt like he owed her. Because he didn't have the heart to kill the monster below. Not yet. He just...couldn't let her go.

"She'll be back. Can't get enough of us...the dirty little bitch," Paul sidled up beside Michael against the cave wall and tried to ruffle his hair. Michael smacked his hand away, growling.

"Don't call her that," Michael warned.

"She's unbalanced. Nuts. Did you see how she acted when she got a hold of Paul?" David smirked, chuckling as he tucked his cigarette into his mouth and pulled out a box of matches from his coat pocket, pausing to light it with a dramatic flare. "She's going to do everything within her power to come back here during the day, I bet ya ten to one. With Thorn, and the fact that there's no way she'll be able to get our current sleeping spot without a pretty intense workout...there's no way she'll be able to hurt us. And if she acts crazy out there, who's to say someone else won't try to get rid of her?"

Without pausing to look up, Dwayne turned the page in his book and smirked. "And if it doesn't work? If she comes back?"

David blew out a breath of smoke, "shit, I'm not a psychic. We'll worry about that if it happens..." he then turned to smirk at Michael, winking. "And seeing as how nice I've been tonight, I think we should have a little bit of fun. What do you think, Mikey?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "Why don't you try your luck with Star, instead?"

Paul frowned, looking over at David, "that's not gonna screw up the bet, is it? I'm still getting another shot at it, right?"

"Are you kidding me?" Marko blurted, staring at Paul incredulously. "You're gonna go back for seconds?! Paulie, if you want your dick ripped off, we can do it for you. There's no need to go through so much trouble."

Before they could discuss the merits of letting Paul go through with his apparent plans to have his body mutilated a second time, David was dragging Michael by the collar out of the room.

"I can walk on my own, asshole!" He protested, shoving David off.

Dwayne lowered his book and waved at them, _"let us know if you have problems rising to the occasion again."_ He chuckled.

 _"Shut up!"_ David's voice echoed in their minds as he and Michael disappeared through a crack in the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! This may be the last chapter of the story, but that doesn't mean the series is over. I plan on starting part 3 pretty soon. This just felt like the best place to close the book on this part. And I was running out of gerunds for chapter titles. XD. Hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as I did writing it. If you have any ideas you think you'd like to persuade me to throw into the next part, just let me know.


End file.
